


Adzeisval's Carnival of Whump

by Adzeisval



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-11-09 11:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 29,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20852585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adzeisval/pseuds/Adzeisval
Summary: My entries for Whumptober 2019, so there's going to be a lot of Whumping going on in here. I'll add tags with each chapter, going to be MCU and Good Omens characters.





	1. Shaky Hands

Aziraphale made his way slowly back to the Abbey. It was the first truly warm day of spring and he was going to enjoy it. Winter had been a bit harsh but there had been relatively little illness that winter compared to the last one. The apple trees were just about to bloom, plants were sprouting all around, and he had a feeling that it was going to be the start of a good year. 

“Brother Aziraphale!”

Brother Tom ran down the path to greet him looking more than a little frightened. Aziraphale frowned. Tom was an even headed young lad not given to overreactions and theatrics. 

“Easy Brother Tom, what is the matter?” Aziraphale asked. 

Tom looked around then whispered, “We caught a demon.” 

Aziraphale sighed. Human imagination could be the most wonderful thing in the world. What they had thought up with food, music, and stories always amused and amazed him. But it could also run away with itself and create all manner of problems where there were none.

Aziraphale knew very well that there were demons on earth, quite a few, and were eager to claim souls to take to hell. But whatever poor soul they had was almost certainly not a demon. Probably some poor soul cast out for being different, or someone who thought the theatrics would get them something they wanted. Aziraphale would play along for a time and then try to help the poor human out the best he could. 

“What makes you certain he is a demon?” Aziraphale asked. 

“He has the most terrible eyes, like a snake.” 

Aziraphale froze, “Snake eyes?”

“And he knows your name. I told William and John we had better wait for your return,” Tom said. 

“Very good. I may know of this demon,” he said. He picked up the pace, heart hammering in his chest hoping they had not gone for the Holy Water just yet. 

“How did you find him?” 

“He came to us, he appeared drunk and was calling for you, but would not step inside the church. We saw his eyes and all three of us were able to get him inside.” 

Aziraphale knew the consecrated ground of the church would be painful, as would blessed objects, but as long as they stayed away from Holy Water Crowley should be fine. If it even was Crowley. But it had to be him, snake eyes and asking for him by name. It couldn’t possibly be anyone else, but Aziraphale was hoping it wasn’t Crowley.

Before Aziraphale’s eyes adjusted to the dark of the church he heard a low moan of pain from Crowley. Aziraphale’s hands started to shake as he caught sight of what the young monks had done. 

Crowley was stripped naked and laid out before the alter, his hands were tied with rope winding around the first pew’s to either side of him feet bound, the pose very deliberately chosen. He was bleeding from several wounds on his torso, his left cheek was swollen and bruised. Placed beside him were several tankards of water. 

Not just water, Holy Water. 

“We thought the Holy Water might keep him still Brother Aziraphale,” William said.

“Indeed, clever boys,” he said even as he felt like smiting them. Crowley stirred at the sound of Aziraphale’s name and looked at him with pleading eyes. 

“Aziraphale?”

William kicked Crowley, nearly spilling one of the tankards of Holy Water, “Quiet Demon! Or we’ll take your eyes out, how dare you speak the name of our most holy brother!”

“Stop,” Aziraphale commanded his hands shaking hard in anger and fear, “Do not touch him, it is unwise, he may possess you.” 

“Do you know this demon?” Tom asked. 

“I do. And I know how to get rid of him,” Aziraphale said. He had the monks take away the holy water but left Crowley tied up. He worked as fast as he could so Crowley didn’t have to suffer much longer. He could just miracle them both away but that might draw too much attention and he was in the middle of influencing several locals to the light and couldn’t just run without repercussions. 

While the boys were busy Aziraphale found an ordinary kitchen knife and did some miracle work on it before coming back.

“This blade will send you back to hell, foul demon,” Aziraphale said. Crowley frowned looked confused and a little betrayed before he took a better look at the knife and realized it was fake.

“I’ll be back, mark my words, I will return!” 

Even though he knew the blade was fake, even though he trusted Crowley to be appropriately theatrical as he ‘died’ Aziraphale’s hands shook. Crowley let out a gasp as the blade hit him. He convulsed and then went still. Aziraphale snapped and Crowley was gone. 

The boys gasped looking at Aziraphale in awe before Tom had the courage to speak, “What do we do now?”

“Pray, I must dispose of this properly outside. Pray until you feel clean again and then get back to your work,” Aziraphale said. He rushed to the small gardening shed where he sent Crowley. 

Crowley was wrapped in a blanket on the floor of the shed, curled in on himself and shivering.

“No need for theatrics now,” Aziraphale said. 

“Not faking angel,” he said. 

Aziraphale sighed, “What are you doing here anyway.” 

“Passing through.”

“You’ve certainly made a mess of things now. I don’t know what I’m going to do with those boys. They’ll let that go to their heads and find more demons, not real ones mind just unfortunate people. I do hope I can instil some humility in them.” 

“Ssssorry. Didn’t mean to.” 

“Well if you didn’t…” 

“Will you let me discorporate in peace!” Crowley snapped. 

Aziraphale huffed, “I hardly think you’re hurt that bad.” Aziraphale wasn’t completely sure though and knelt to see if Crowley was making a fuss or not. He miracled more light in the the little shed and pulled the blanket away from Crowley’s upper body. Crowley stiffened and groaned. The wounds that were on his torso were healed, his wrists where they were bound didn’t have a mark and even his face had healed itself. 

Aziraphale was just about to tell Crowley to stop fussing when he looked at the demon’s back. The skin was red and swollen and where it had been pressing into the ground it was covered in painful looking blisters. 

“Oh. Oh my dear fellow, I’m sorry. Let me help you heal.” 

Crowley didn’t protest as Aziraphale miracled a straw mattress and helped him flip on his stomach. Aziraphale’s hands shook as he touched a damp towel to Crowley’s back. Crowley jerked a little but gave a relieved sigh as Aziraphale squeezed cool water over the blisters. 

As gently as he could, and with his hands still shaking, Aziraphale covered Crowley’s back in damp cloths then began to help the wounds heal. Crowley seemed semi conscious his breathing a bit erratic to the point that Aziraphale thought he might discorporate after all. 

But the demon survived the healing and started to recover quickly with the burns healed. 

“Thank you,” Crowley said quietly, “I thought they would…”

“They didn’t,” Aziraphale said. The thought of losing Crowley to Holy Water was terrifying but confusing in it’s own way. Crowley was a demon after all, his sworn enemy, he shouldn’t be feeling this about Crowley at all. 

“I’ll, uh, stay clear of this place,” Crowley said.

“Probably for the best,” Aziraphale said. With that Crowley left and Aziraphale was left alone with his confusing thoughts and his still shaking hands. Crowley really hadn’t done anything and he had been badly wounded. All because Crowley wanted to see Aziraphale. And now Aziraphale didn’t know when, or maybe if, he would see Crowley again.


	2. Explosion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale thought they were going to have a nice day out; but end up in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Crowley fell against the side of the brick building, shoulder sliding a little as he tried to keep both himself and Aziraphale from falling over on the ground. 

“That was a bad idea angel, a bad bad idea,” Crowley muttered. 

It was supposed to be a good day. They were going out to lunch, then going to a new museum exhibit, and were going to end the night at the Albert Hall for a concert that Aziraphale was extremely excited for. 

And then some moron, some absolute bastard idiot had tried to blow up the damn tube station. Humans had a habit of punctuating their displeasure by destroying things for attention. It wasn’t as if Crowley hadn’t nudged people in that direction before, mostly on orders, but it pissed him off that it had ruined their day. 

“Come on angel, we have to get back to the shop,” Crowley said pushing off the wall and hoping that he didn’t fall into Aziraphale and over. They righted and stumbled on. 

They had been careful ever since the not quite apocalypse to not get into situations where they might discorporate. Neither knew what would happen if they did and popped into Heaven or Hell. 

Crowley and Aziraphale had been waiting in the station when there was some sort of commotion near the stairs. They ignored it at first; humans were always loud and had a lot to say but then something in the air changed and Crowley and Aziraphale looked at each other before quickly turning toward the noise. 

If they had been paying more attention, if they had realized what was going on one of them could have simply snapped whatever explosive there was away, or at least make sure it didn’t go off. But by the time they realized what was going on it was too late to do that. It was also a bit too late to freeze time, if Crowley had tried that he might have had a better way of saving himself and Aziraphale but those closest to the madman would certainly die. 

And closest to the madman was a mother with three little ones. 

They were going to have to do something with the energy if the others in the station were going to be saved. 

“Absorb it!” Aziraphale called out. Crowley didn’t have a better idea so as the explosion ripped out of the madman’s case both he and Aziraphale pulled it toward them. They could, in theory, phase it through their corporations and into their true forms where it would leave in the ethereal plane and they would be fine.

In theory at least. 

In practice it was...painful. Crowley fell to his knees in an instant and thought he might be screaming but wasn’t sure. Everything was burning in a tingling sort of way that was coming in waves. It lasted so much longer than he thought it would.

Everything went black for a moment then he woke with a start and looked around. He had not been discorporated, and neither had Aziraphale, the angel must have them hidden from sight and fixed reality because no one noticed them or seemed to have any idea about what almost happened to them. 

“Aziraphale?”

The angel was still awake moving in a jerking sort of way like he was still fighting the energy.

“Come on angel, we have to go home.” 

Crowley stood slowly shaking as he did and feeling like he was going to fall over. He was having trouble drawing a full breath and he had to concentrate to make his heart beat in the right rhythm again. Aziraphale must have taken more energy because it look Crowley’s help to get him to a standing position. 

They both walked in a jerking fashion, stopping often to rest. 

And so Crowley found himself falling into the side of a building and hoping that he could get them back to the bookshop without discorporating. It should have taken less than a quarter of an hour to get home, but an hour passed as the two slowly shuffled on. 

Crowley and Aziraphale collapsed onto the couch the instant they made it inside the bookshop.

“Oh that was stupid,” Crowley repeated, “But we did good I suppose.” 

“I know you didn’t want those children hurt dear. Oh, why does it feel like I’ve been plugged into something?”

“Me too,” Crowley said. The ripples of energy were starting to dissipate but for some reason they were hurting more now. Crowley took Aziraphale’s hand and could feel him stiffen in pain with each surge. 

“‘S alright, angel, we’ll be alright,” Crowley said. If it was going to discorporate or kill them he thought it would have happened already. Or so he hoped. He leaned against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. 

When he opened them again it was dark and Aziraphale had collapsed against him. Crowley’s heart leapt into his throat until he heard Aziraphale take a breath. Asleep, he was only asleep. Or passed out. But either way alive. Aziraphale was breathing steadily, and when Crowley put his hand gently on the angel’s neck he felt a strong steady pulse. 

Aziraphale stirred and after a moment opened his eyes. Crowley smiled. 

“Angel.” 

“My dear Crowley. Oh, I think that was too close. I couldn’t get my poor heart to beat right for the longest time.” 

“I know. Let’s try not to do that one again. That was...painful.” 

“One of the more unpleasant things I’ve ever done,” Aziraphale agreed, “And I am including going to hell in that.” 

“We were lucky,” Crowley said. Crowley shifted, muscles still sore, and wasn’t going to think about getting off the couch for the rest of the night. Maybe another day or so. Or a week. Aziraphale groaned as he too shifted. 

“I’m proud of you, you know,” Aziraphale said, “That was kind.” 

“I was annoyed more than anything,” Crowley said, “And there were, you know, kids.” 

“I know my dear. I love you.” 

“Love you too angel,” Crowley said. That had been far too close. Either one of them, or both of them could have been killed. They would have to be careful, and maybe not try to absorb the energy of another explosion.


	3. Delirium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley is worried when Aziraphale doesn't send in paperwork for a temptation he covered for Crowley.

Crowley tried as best he could to not look like he was in a hurry. He had been called to hell to file a missing report and stood as Lord Beelzebub read the freshly written report. 

Lord Beelzebub looked more bored than angry but Crowley knew the Prince of Hell could make his life miserable anyway if they really wanted to. The paperwork he was filling out was for a temptation that was performed two days prior. It was apparently more important than Crowley thought. If he had known he would have done the temptation himself. As it was Aziraphale had done the temptation; the Angel owed him one and Crowley had not felt like going to Ireland at that moment. 

Crowley wasn’t terribly worried about himself, in all likelihood once the papers were filed no one would ever read them or look at them again. What worried him was that Aziraphale had not sent the report in. They had filed paperwork for each other since the first time they switched jobs. And Aziraphale was fastidious and punctual on any paperwork whether it was for a temptation or a blessing it didn’t matter; he was always on time. Crowley had not seen Aziraphale since then and he was now getting worried that something had gone wrong. 

“File your paperwork on time Demon Crowley, or there will be unpleasantries,” Beelzebub said.

“Of course,” Crowley said, “Won’t happen again.” He was really, really starting to dislike the fourteenth century and it was not even half over. 

Once he was back on earth he made a beeline for where he thought Aziraphale would be. If something had gone wrong though maybe Aziraphale had been caught, maybe he had been called back to Heaven. Maybe he had been discorporated. If he’d been discorporated or wounded doing a temptation Crowley would never forgive himself. 

Aziraphale was exactly where Crowley expected him to be, in a little room he rented above at an inn on the outskirts of London. Crowley would have sighed in relief but he quickly realized that something was wrong.

Aziraphale was in bed lying on his side facing away from Crowley. Aziraphale didn’t sleep, any bed he’d ever owned was just for appearance sake, unless he sat on it to read. 

“Aziraphale?”

At first Aziraphale didn’t move and Crowley’s heart leapt in his throat, but then Aziraphale stirred and moaned slightly. Crowley approached the bed and sat on the edge. 

“Aziraphale, it’s Crowley, I’m going to turn you over alright? Are you hurt?” Crowley asked. He turned the Angel over looking for any sign of a wound. Aziraphale groaned and blinked up at him with unfocused eyes. He was drenched in sweat and shivering slightly. 

“Crowley,” he said with a slight slur and smile. 

“It’s me Aziraphale, what happened?”

Aziraphale frowned, “But you forgot the cake.” 

“Cake? Angel what happened.” 

“I was looking forward to it,” Aziraphale said. 

“I think you ate something bad. Or drank something bad,” Crowley said. It didn’t look like Aziraphale was in pain, or that he was in danger of discorporation, but for one reason or another he was running a fever and was delirius. Maybe someone had poisoned him on purpose. Maybe it was something that would have killed a human but was only making him sick. 

Crowley determined he would have to stay with Aziraphale until whatever was causing this was out of his system. He couldn’t risk healing Aziraphale, not so soon after being called to hell and getting in trouble. If Hell was watching him and saw him healing an Angel he’d be done for.

Crowley pulled the chair away from Aziraphale’s table to sit by the bed and miracled the supplies he would need; a towel and a bowl of cool water to start with. He wrung the extra water out of the towel and placed in Aziraphale’s forehead. He didn’t know how well it worked but it was something humans were fond of doing. Aziraphale made a pleased little noise. 

“Crowley I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Aziraphale said. 

“‘S alright angel,” Crowley said. 

“But I don’t want to go to Hell.” 

“Not going to Hell.” 

“Why is it so hot?”

“You have a fever, don’t worry about it just try to rest,” Crowley said taking the cloth and dipping it in the cool water again. Aziraphale fell silent. Crowley sat with him, changing the cloth and helping Aziraphale take sips of some watery ale, and listening to him talk all sorts of madness. He kept going on about some sort of cake and not wanting to go to Hell. 

At one point Crowley nodded off for a few moments and when he woke Aziraphale too had fallen asleep. He sighed, taking the warm cloth from where it had slipped off Aziraphale’s forehead and drenched it in cooler water again before placing it on the Angel’s head. 

Aziraphale stirred and blinked confusedly up at Crowley.

“You’re alright angel,” he said. Aziraphale frowned. Crowley was about to sooth him again when Aziraphale sat up and threw the cloth at him.

“Away foul Demon!” 

“Just me Aziraphale, you’re safe.” 

“I said get away!”

“Aziraphale, it’s Crowley.” 

“No! I will not go to Hell with you. Begone!” 

“Aziraphale it’s me. Crowley. Not taking you to hell.” 

A light started to glow behind Aziraphale’s eyes, “I will smite you Demon!” 

Crowley swallowed hard, “Aziraphale, you know me. Crowley. You’ve known me for thousands of years. We’re friends.” 

“Fiend! I would never be friends with a foul creature of Hell!” 

Crowley tried to ignore the heaviness in his chest and figure out what to do. It felt wrong to leave Aziraphale alone but it was starting to get dangerous. Aziraphale could smite him, wipe him from existence. Crowley didn’t know anyone else who could help. Heaven could, maybe, if they knew Aziraphale was in trouble. Crowley’s pondering was brought to a sudden stop when Aziraphale grabbed the bowl of water. 

And started blessing it. 

Crowley got up so fast he knocked his chair over which startled Aziraphale into dropping the bowl. Aziraphale blinked and frowned.

“Crowley?”

“Mmm. It’s me.” 

“Oh,” Aziraphale said and collapsed back on the bed. Crowley righted the chair and sat down trying to breathe deep to calm his pounding heart. After a few moments he miracled the half-blessed water away and went back to tending Aziraphale. 

Sometime during the night Crowley fell asleep again. 

“Crowley?” 

He sighed and hoped that Aziraphale went on about cake and didn’t try to smite him again. But when he opened his eyes the Angel that was frowning at him was back to normal. Crowley smiled. 

“Aziraphale! Feeling better?”

“Yes, but, what happened?”

“I don’t know angel, I got called to hell to file paperwork from the temptation you covered and I thought something was wrong. You were delirious and feverish. Bad food maybe?”

“Oh. Maybe. The temptation went well, I did stop a few places to eat. I’m sorry I didn’t get your report in my dear.” 

“I was more worried about you,” Crowley said. 

“I hope I didn’t say anything...odd.” 

“You were mostly going on about about cake,” Crowley said. Aziraphale didn’t need to know about the other things he had said, didn’t need to know he had threatened to smite Crowley, it would only upset and hurt him. Aziraphale had been delirious, it wasn’t his fault. 

“Thank you for helping my dear,” Aziraphale said. 

“Course angel,” Crowley smiled. 

“Well I don’t know if it was bad food that did it, but I actually feel rather peckish,” Aziraphale said, “Care to join me for...what time of day is it?”

“Morning still, I think.” 

“Breakfast then, my treat since I didn’t get to your report.” 

“Sounds lovely, angel,” Crowley said, glad that Aziraphale was back to normal. After thousands of years he couldn’t even begin to imagine what life would be like without Aziraphale.


	4. Human Shield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MCU one this time, Fury and Talos are on their way to meet Scott Lang when the run into a bit of a problem.

“You know, I can’t make up my mind about something. About humans,” Talos looked over to Fury who was gripping the steering wheel rather hard and looking at the unmoving truck in front of them. 

“And what is that?”

“Can’t decide if you’re brave or stupid,” Talos said. 

Fury let out a short bark of a laugh and looked over at him, “I think you’re going to have to be a little more specific. There are definitely times we’re brave and times we’re stupid. I don’t think that’s exclusive to humans either.” 

“Well I was just looking at this city around us. San Francisco. Not a bad city, fairly organized as far as your cities go. But built on an active earthquake zone? And how many people live here?”

“Oh I’d say we’re getting toward a million in the bay area, just a guess though.” 

“A million people in such a dangerous area.” 

“We do make an effort to make it safe you know,” Fury said. 

“You’d think people wouldn’t want to live in an area that was completely destroyed by an earthquake.”

“We tend to be a stubborn species,” Fury said. 

Talos laughed, “You can say that again.” The traffic started to move a little and Talos was glad for that. He wished there was an easier way to get around but one had to deal with the limitations of any given planet. They were supposed to be on their way to meet Scott Lang who was having a problem remembering something. Talos could, in theory, use some of his technology to help, but he thought Fury might just be dragging him along to annoy him. Which was fine; he could annoy Fury right back just as much. 

They were meeting in a park for some unknown reason and after what seemed like an eternity in traffic they were approaching the spot. 

“Uhmm, this does not look good,” Fury said, a second later his phone rang. Talos could make out a crowd of people and several flashing lights.

“Change of plans,” Fury said, “We have a situation. Seems Lang attracted someone who thinks the Avengers kidnapped his brother. He’s holding Lang hostage. Come on, might need you to distract him by turning into a dragon or something.” 

“Dragon? I am a highly decorated war hero you know I can do more than sim creatures. But speaking of simming, I should do a human right?”

“Probably,” Fury said. 

Talos had a go to human to sim in the field when he was on earth and turned into the unassuming looking agent. The human police were standing far away, with guns trained on the man. Scott Lang was being held in front of the madman like a human shield.

Fury stepped forward introducing himself to the man and asking him what he wanted. Talos looked around, it didn’t look like anyone else was with the madman and the police were doing a good job of keeping the civilians back. There was one young woman with her hands over her mouth watching the whole thing intently. 

When he had spoken to the man, Fury came back over to Talos, “We have a problem. The man is threatening to kill Scott unless we produce his brother, who is dead.” 

“Simming the dead isn’t easy, especially if I don’t see them myself.” 

“Can you try though?”

“I can try sure, but I can’t promise it’s going to be any good.” 

“It just has to be good enough. I’ll have someone send the info to the tablet in my car. Take a half hour or so don’t want to make it seem crazy fast.”

“That young woman over there?”

“Scott’s daughter.” 

“Ah. I’ll do my best Fury,” Talos said. He had wondered if the young woman was related to Scott. He was going to try to make sure she didn’t have to see her father get killed. He knew Scott was thinking of that, had to be, human or alien they were both fathers. 

Talos studied the man as best as he could and simmed him, hoping that he would at least serves as a distraction so they could get Scott away. Fury came for him and they approached the situation. 

“See, see I told you! Those bastards had my brother! They are not the heroes you think they are! My brother didn’t do anything!” The man screamed. 

“Hell no I didn’t, now let him go and they say I can come with you,” Talos said, “An exchange.” 

The man looked him over trying to spot a lie and Talos did the best he could with what little information he had. It was hard to know how to hold himself having just seen a few pictures. He’d only had a little bit of a voice clip to work with, but he had to try. 

“No, no something’s not right,” the man said. 

“Not right? Come on, let’s get the hell out of here!” Talos could see Fury slowly moving to one side of the man. Talos mirrored his movement so the man would lose sight of Fury. Talos risked a quick glance behind him trying to make sure there were no civilians in the way if the man decided to shoot him. 

“What was mother’s name?”

Talos frowned, “Susan, you think I could forget our mother?”

The man considered this, “No, not right. What did they do to you man?”

“We can talk about that later, we just need to get out of here before they change their minds,” Talos said. 

“You’re not him, not my brother,” the man pressed the gun harder to Scott’s chest for a moment then swung his arm out and fired at Talos. The bullet hit Talos in the chest and he went down. He saw Fury pull Scott away and the man lifted the gun again this time firing a bullet into his own head. 

Talos groaned. He was back to his own form and heard several of the onlookers gasping and a quick look up he saw several fingers pointed at him. Fury was running toward him with Scott close behind. 

“Easy Talos, we’ll get help.” 

Talos took a breath and winced, “Do I need to die?”

“Do you...what?” Fury frowned then put his hand on Talos’ chest, “You’re wearing armor.” The look of worry faded from Fury’s face and turned to one of annoyance, happy annoyance. 

“Of course I am! I’m not an idiot! Do you think I want to get shot?”

“I don’t know. You certainly seem to put yourself into those situations enough,” Fury said, “I don’t think you need to fake die, only a matter of time before the know about Skrulls.” Fury helped him sit up and Talos winced again as he took a deeper breath.

Body armor or not getting shot still hurt and he expected to be bruised for quite a while, and was starting to suspect the bullet might have hit just right to crack a rib. Maybe two.

Fury stood and offered his hand, “Come on, we’ll get that looked at. Make sure you’re alright. And thank you, you did a good job.” 

“Don’t I always?”

“Hmm, I suppose.” 

“Is he alright?” Scott asked. Talos looked over to see Scott his arms around his daughter. Talos smiled at the sight.

“He was wearing armor, he should be alright,” Fury said.

The more he moved the more certain Talos was that he’d cracked more than one rib, but the wound was minor and they had saved Scott so it had all worked out about the best it could. 

“You know, another thing about humans I’ve noticed,” Talos said. 

“And what’s that?”

“I seem to get shot a lot more around you.”


	5. Gunpoint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint is not having a very good evening and Loki's sudden appearance is not helping.

Clint had begun the day thinking it was going to be a good one; the weather was gorgeous, he was retired, and Nat was coming over for dinner. Being part of the Avengers was one of his proudest accomplishments, but he knew if he stayed in that line of work for too long he would get killed. With younger heroes on the rise he thought passing off the torch would put an end to the danger. 

He had, however, forgotten how long a grudge could be held. Which was how he found himself on his knees with a gun to the back of his head. Nathaniel and Laura were on either side of him guns trained on them as well, Natasha was beside Laura looking around for a way out. 

The man in charge was staring Clint down while cradling a speargun. He probably had some sort of fish monker or dressed in scales or some bullshit. Everyone had a shtick nowadays 

“What is it you want?” Clint asked. 

“Your death,” the man said. 

“Ah well I don’t really agree with that, and if you want me you don’t need to keep anyone else here.” 

“I’ll take the widow too,” Speargun man said. 

“You don’t need my family,” Clint said. 

“They can watch,” he said. Clint had no idea what the man was waiting for then, if he thought he was being trailed or thought he someone else might show up. 

“So is this an assassination or a trap?” Nat asked. The Speargun man twitched a little and refused to look at her. She was right then and they were expecting to trap more Avengers or former avengers. 

Clint became aware of a strange feeling in the air. It took him a few moments to realize what it was. Magic. He’d been around enough of it, Wanda, Strange, Thor and Loki, he knew it was magic. And he had a bad feeling about whose it was. 

Loki.

Of course it would be Loki. He didn’t even know Loki was in the states, he hadn’t seen the bastard in years. He risked a glance at Nat who raised an eyebrow. She felt it too and seemed to have the same guess. He tried not to pay too much attention to what was going on but saw first his son then his wife flicker slightly. He knew better than to reach for either of them he didn’t want the projections to flicker and give Loki’s magic away. 

Laura and Nathaniel were safe and that was worth a slight sigh of relief. Now all they needed was…

There was a loud bang from upstairs and when the men all looked up he and Nat sprung up and fought. One of the men shot the projection of Laura and stood shocked when the bullet went through it and into the floor. 

In short order all the men were down, either shot or knocked out and Clint and Nat looked at each other. 

“You can come out now Loki,” Clint said. 

“Ah, you knew it was me,” Loki said coming into the room. 

“Hard to mistake that particular...feel,” Clint said, “You alone?”

“Sam’s outside, we knew it was a trap,” Loki said, “Let’s get out of here. A team is on the way to deal with these fools.” 

“Good,” Clint said looking around at the fallen gunmen eager to get outside to his family. He turned to got and was two steps from the door when he heard a cry and then a shot. Nat was holding a gun and had taken out the Speargun man. Clint swung as he saw movement to his right.

“Oh shit.” 

Loki had stumbled against the wall and to his knees. The spear had hit him in the back, gone all the way through, protruding from his chest just below his heart. Loki was staring down at the spear a shaky hand place just below where it protruded. He was already breathing heavily, all color gone from his face. 

“Nat, go get Sam, we’ve got to get him to help,” Clint knelt down, “Loki? We need to get to Sam. I need you to get up and walk.”

Clint managed to get Loki up, walking slowly out and toward Sam. Loki stumbled and groaned. 

“Doing good Loki,” Clint said. Clint had been hoping that Sam had his wings and that he’d be able to fly Loki to help. He didn’t, they were going to have to drive Loki. So they all ended up in Laura’s SUV the back seats turned down so Loki could lay on his side. The back up team arrived and Clint felt safe leaving Laura and Nathaniel. 

Sam drove while Clint and Nat tried to keep Loki awake and the spear still. Clint was worried; Loki was covered in cold sweat struggling to draw breath. Every time they hit a rough patch he cried out. 

“How far are we from help?” Nat called out. 

“Twenty minutes,” Sam said. 

“Hang on Loki,” Clint said. 

Loki struggled to look up at Clint. He was scared and Clint took Loki’s hand trying to keep him focused. 

“Can’t breathe,” Loki forced out. 

“Stay with us Loki, we know you can do it, you’re a badass,” Clint said. Loki was trembling it was taking all the energy he had just to draw in short gasps of air. He was likely losing a lot of blood, either filling or collapsing his lungs. 

Clint and Nat were able to keep Loki awake until they got to the Emergency Room. Of course being there wasn’t the end, not every hospital could deal with an alien with blood loss but hopefully they could keep him alive for long enough for backup to arrive.

The news was not good. Loki’s left lung was collapsed, chest filling with blood, and worse the spear had nicked his heart. 

It was a long wait for more help, and then a long surgery. Clint would never have imagined he’d be this concerned about Loki’s survival, but this was the second time Loki had saved his life. And he didn’t want to have to tell Thor that his brother was gone. He didn’t even know if anyone knew where Thor was at the moment, he was off world somewhere.

But Loki was a badass, and he pulled through. Clint made sure that his family was alright and that everything at home was fine before he decided to stay with Loki. 

Once stable Loki healed fast. Clint thought there was a time he would have used that information to his advantage; that he would have to kill Loki quickly or risk him healing. But now he was thankful for it. Loki had saved him again, and saved his family and Nat too.

Loki woke up the next morning, confused and hurting, but healing well. Clint helped him refresh his memory. 

“Why is it every time we’re together I get hurt?” Loki sighed. 

“I don’t know, maybe because you’re a pain in the ass,” Clint said. 

“Hmm. Maybe.” 

“A helpful pain in the ass though. Thank you Loki for helping us.” 

“You are most welcome,” Loki said with a little smile.


	6. Dragged Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale thinks the temptation has gone rather well, but he might have attracted too much attention.

At first glance Aziraphale thought the temptation had gone well. He really didn’t have to travel far; only to Wales, and he only had to tempt a farmer into poisoning his neighbors sheep. What happened beyond that he didn’t know and he knew Crowley wouldn’t either. Besides Crowley had covered two blessings for him and he owed the demon. 

Still as he sat at the restaurant and waited for Crowley to show up he began to think that something had gone wrong. Or, more likely, that he had called too much attention to himself. The others at the restaurant were certainly glancing frequently at him. It was a small area however and he supposed he did look out of place. 

Crowley arrived and most of the worry melted away. They shared food and wine and Aziraphale helped him fill out the details of his paperwork. They were just about to leave when a group of local men, seven in total, two armed with hunting rifles entered and stood staring at Aziraphale and Crowley.

Aziraphale swallowed hard, “I think we had better leave.” 

“Might be a little late for that angel,” Crowley said looking around. Aziraphale realized the group of men were blocking the only exit. 

“I think you gentlemen need to leave,” the leader said, “If that’s what you are.” 

“I for one am definitely not a gentlemen, but we’ll leave,” Crowley said, “Don’t want trouble.” 

“You found it though. See strange things have been going on around here lately. Work of the devil.” 

“Not this devil,” Crowley said. 

“That one I think,” the man said pointing at Aziraphale. Crowley burst into laughter but Aziraphale only tensed. These men weren’t joking around and seemed to be getting agitated to the point that they might use their weapons. 

“Oh you lot have it very very wrong,” Crowley said.

“Then he’s got you under his spell as well,” the man said. 

“Look, we’ll leave, but you’ve got it wrong,” Crowley said. The man lifted his pistol halfway to aiming it at Aziraphale when Crowley stood up. Aziraphale was shocked into inaction, but even he couldn’t have guessed what happened next. 

From what he could tell Crowley was aiming to snap, to call up power from hell to do something to the man which making sure all attention and weapons were on Crowley and not Aziraphale. 

Somehow the man was faster. The pistol went off sending a slug of metal into Crowley’s chest. Crowley let out a shocked cry hand flying to his chest, eyes widening and breath stalling.

“Crowley!”

Crowley collapsed to the floor and Aziraphale was at his side instantly. Still by the time he got there Crowley was seconds from discorporating. The bullet hit his heart and he was too shocked to save himself. Aziraphale didn’t know if he could do anything but before he could act he was being dragged away from Crowley. 

“You’re coming with us demon!” the man said. Aziraphale let himself be dragged away, let them drag him into the woods. And then he acted. In his anger he thought about smiting them for what they did to Crowley. For what they were intending to do to him. He didn’t even have to kill, he could blind them, or he could paralyze them. 

The anger grew and the men, frozen by Aziraphale’s power, were trembling in fear. Aziraphale let his wings manifest, glowing slightly and they spread out.

A look of recognition spread across the men’s faces. And fear. Aziraphale stopped short of action. He couldn’t do this, the poor misguided souls didn’t know what they were doing, and they hadn’t really killed Crowley. And he would have a lot of paperwork and explaining to do if he killed these men. For discorporating a demon. That could very well get back to Hell and get Crowley into trouble as well. 

And he had never killed anything. And didn’t want to. But he could punish. 

He snapped, “You will forget this encounter. You will devote your lives to helping people, to being kind for my mercy.” 

Aziraphale walked away, back to the restaurant to take care of the people there and to remove Crowley. As he emerged from the forest he was met with another surprise. 

“Crowley!”

Crowley let out a sigh, “Oh angel. I thought…are you alright?”

“Yes. I...I think so. I thought you had discorporated.” 

“Almost did. Had to stop my heart to heal it. Hard to do. Didn’t think I would make it,” Crowley said, “I saw the glowing.” 

“Oh. I very nearly smited them I’m afraid. Made them forget instead.” 

“For me? You were going to kill them for discorporating me?”

“Yes,” Aziraphale said blushing slightly at the thought of it. Crowley looked a little shocked and unsure of the whole thing.

“I...ngk, uh. Thank you. I’m sorry for provoking them, my fault.” 

“I don’t think they needed much provocation. We’d probably better head back to London. I don’t think people will remember us, but just in case.” 

“Right,” Crowley said, “Teleport back?”

“A good idea. You’ll come to the shop for wine? I don’t think we finished our conversation.” 

“Of course angel,” Crowley said. Aziraphale smiled and he and Crowley headed back to London.


	7. Isolation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talos crash lands on a moon trying to escape from the Kree.

Talos woke to the smell of smoke and several incessant screeching alarms. Something was wrong and everything hurt and he did not want to wake up. But the smell of smoke grew stronger and triggered his memory. 

He’d been in an escape ship trying to draw Kree soldiers away from his men, circling around a small moon when...he crashed. He must have crashed. With more effort than he would care to admit he opened his eyes and took stock of what was going on. 

Smoke was drifting in the cabin but there didn’t appear to be a fire. Most of it was exiting the ship through the broken windscreen. Talos forced himself to his knees to try to look at the instruments. He reached for the consul and found his right arm was not listening to his brain. He prodded the arm gently and came to the conclusion that his shoulder was dislocated. 

“Damn it.” 

He got the alarms turned off and the computer was working well enough to determine that there was a breathable, though not optimal, atmosphere on the moon. Talos pulled himself up searching the ship for signs of fire and exiting the ship to make sure he hadn’t landed on the edge of a cliff. That would be just his luck the way things were going so far. 

He was in the middle of a thick forest, tall trees rocky ground, he was surprised at how quickly he got out of breath and hoped it was because of the atmosphere and not an injury. He came to the conclusion that he was utterly alone. 

Right. 

He had to take care of his wounds, see if he could contact anyone, and make sure his shelter was suitable. He might be there for quite some time. 

The shoulder was the worst of his injuries. He was bruised, his left ankle sprained but not broken and covered in cuts all over but there didn’t seem to be any signs of internal bleeding. He did what he could with the small first aid kit on his ship ignoring the biggest problem until he couldn’t anymore. He was going to have to get the shoulder joint back in place and it wasn’t going to be easy to do it alone. 

In theory he knew what he needed to do, when war with the Kree had begun, and when he had men dying in his arms he’d taken the time to learn what field medicine he could. Trying to keep his men alive was his duty and he had to do the most he could. So he knew he had to get the right leverage and move quickly to get the joint in place. 

“I can do this, I have to do this. No choice. I need both arms to get off this moon. I will get off this moon,” he said. 

The first try was a failure. He thought he’d gotten the joint back in place but it pulled out again with a sharp stabbing pain that left him crumpled on the floor groaning in pain. He concentrated on his breathing waited for the pain to dull down before he tried again. 

The second try worked; the joint popped back in place and Talos fashioned a sling. There were few painkillers in the kit, but he took one as he got started trying to contact anyone. 

Unfortunately the communication equipment was damaged in the crash and he could barely get the consul to make static let alone send out a signal. He was probably going to have to wait for rescue or get off the moon himself. 

“Alright, shelter. Check for wildlife, how long are days here,” Talos mumbled to himself. He had to keep busy and had to keep his shelter secure. 

There was a single sun in the sky, moving slowly arching along the southern horizon of the moon. It was a pleasant temperature in the sun, but Talos predicted it would get cold when the sun was gone, but not dangerously so. 

He repaired the windscreen as best he could; gathered fallen wood just outside the shelter in case he did have to make a fire to survive. All of it was difficult with only one arm but not impossible. 

Talos didn’t need to dwell on the fact that he was isolated; completely alone. He didn’t need to dwell on the fact that he didn’t know if his men were alive, or the every present hole in his heart that he had not seen Soren in three years. Didn’t even know if she or their child lived.

Night was cold, long, but morning came and the day gained heat. Outside the ship Talos watched the local wildlife, small flying creatures, small scurrying ones. Nothing immediately dangerous. There was a rise to the south of the crash site and Talos made his way up, hoping for a clearing to see something. Or it was just to keep busy. 

From the rise he could see a thin line of smoke, five miles or so from where he’d crashed. Talos assumed the Kree ship had crashed. He needed to know if the soldier had survived. And he might be able to use their comms or take parts to fix his ship. 

He took note of everything he saw as he went, potential supplies and food, a source of water. It was slow going; his arm ached and the air was too thin to difficult to get a deep breath in. 

The Kree ship was in worse shape than his. It was still smouldering slightly. The entire back of the ship was torn open. There were no signs of life, but Talos had his weapon drawn. At the front of the ship he found two bodies. Both Kree soldiers were still strapped in their seats, killed in the crash. There were no signs of struggle or suffering. 

Talos left the bodies where they were, he couldn’t move them properly with his arm still in a sling. Their comms were also down and Talos sighed. He took stock of what was in the ship, taking what he thought would be useful that he could carry. He would have to come back again.

Talos fell into a pattern; sleep in the cold dark nights, get up and eat, work on the ship until he was hungry again, spend the afternoon finding food, go to bed. It was enough to keep him busy most of the time and his arm was healing well. 

And he was alone. 

So very, very alone. 

Weeks went by, or what he thought were weeks. Time was strange on the moon. The whole moon was strange. 

“Making progress, this is good, very good,” Talos said. He tried to keep positive, and he was making progress. He would be able to get off the moon. It would take time but he would get off the moon. 

Three months passed. Or what felt like three months. The ship was repaired and ready and Talos was excited to get off the moon. 

It didn’t work. 

The ship went two feet off the ground and shut down. 

Talos cried. Tried again. Another crash. He started to lose hope. He could survive for some time on the resources on the planet. Physically. Mentally the isolation was starting to drain him. But there was nothing to do but survive and hope. He could not, would not even consider taking his own life. 

Five months had passed since the crash. Surviving and trying to fix the ship were all Talos was capable of. Survive, survive, survive. 

Seven months passed. Talos wrote a goodbye letter to Soren, to anyone who might find his body. Just in case. It was getting colder, the moon getting further from the closest sun. Nights were becoming hard to survive, even with fire. 

Eight months after he crashed someone found him. A Skrull vessel on the way to a refugee camp. Talos cried when he pulled away from the moon, glad to be amongst his people again, glad that he had been able to survive the isolation of the moon. 

Talos was right; he did get off the moon.


	8. Stab Wound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley is curious by nature and often enjoys the things human invent. War, however, is not one of those things.

One interesting thing about being an immortal being was how many things one got to see and experience. Humans in their short lives might not get very far from their homes, or get to taste certain foods, learn certain things though to Crowley they seemed somewhat unaware of it. 

There were good parts about it; seeing humans invent new things and use their imaginations to their fullest. The clothes, the food, the buildings, the different nuances of religion and how they interacted. The art, the stories, there were so many things that humans created that were enjoyable. 

Then there were things that were not so enjoyable. Weapons, war, they ways they thought of to hurt each other. Being a Demon Crowley knew he was supposed to like these things or at least see how they were useful in gaining souls for Hell. 

War was not an experience he enjoyed and tried to stay away from it as much as possible. Of course that wasn’t always easy and he was often assigned to war zones. He did the best he could and tried to avoid being discorporated. 

Injury was inevitable though and as Crowley stood at the edge of a dusty Summerian battlefield he marveled at this new first. First time being stabbed. 

Crowley was supposed to be tempting one of the generals to make a charge and with that done he’d been heading off the battlefield. He didn’t see the soldier, wasn’t able to stop the knife from slipping between two ribs. The soldier was then struck down before Crowley could do anything, and he decided to get off the field. 

“Oh, heaven, this hurts,” Crowley mumbled. He wasn’t in the mood to be discorporated so he was going to have to pull the knife out and heal himself. But there was a downside to being on earth and in his corporation so long. The more he was there the more he was his corporation, it wasn’t just a vessel, it was him. Good feelings and bad. 

And this was bad.

He couldn’t breathe without pain, any movement sending spikes of white hot pain through his nerves. He leaned against a stone wall and contemplated the knife. It would have to come out but he wasn’t looking forward to it. If he had been thinking a bit more clearly he might have miracled it away, but he was not thinking clearly at all. 

Crowley gripped the handle of the knife and gave a small tug. Pain exploded in his chest and his vision blurred.

“Oh, fuck.” 

He was going to have to be quick about it. He needed to heal, he was bleeding internally and it was getting rather difficult to breathe. He took the handle in both hands and gritted his teeth. For several moments there was nothing but pain. It rose with every bit the knife moved. Crowley’s hands shook and he strained to finish getting the knife out. Once it was out, tossed aside into the dirt, he took a painful shaky breath and let out a cry of pain. 

“Shit, shit, oh fuck that hurtsssss.” 

Crowley held his hand to the wound, surprised at the amount of blood pouring from his body. His head was starting to spin, waves of pain mixing with nausea. He wanted to sleep. He let his eyes drift a moment before he had a spark of realization. 

He was going to discorporate. 

“No, not today,” Crowley said starting to use his power to heal himself. He gritted his teeth and concentrated on healing. It hurt almost as bad as being stabbed. He healed the torn blood vessels, lung, muscles and tendons and bone. His eyes were shut tight trying to keep the world around him from spinning. 

When he was done he fell over on his side panting harshly against the dusty ground. The pain was starting to fade, but the nausea peaked and he wretched bringing up nothing but spit and bile. 

“Uh, nkg, bleh.” 

Crowley didn’t know how much time passed before he was finally able to move without feeling sick. It was getting dark and he was miles away from town. He got to his feet still feeling shaky and strange. 

But he wasn’t going to discorporate, which had been the goal anyway. And he was positively sure that he didn’t want to get stabbed again.


	9. Shackled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale have a run in with some religious fanatics

Crowley woke slowly, his head felt funny and his shoulders hurt. He couldn’t remember why he would be feeling that that. It was possible he had passed out drunk; it had happened before, he’d forgotten to sober up and suffered the resulting hangover. His head sort of felt like that, but that didn’t really explain the shoulder pain.

“I think he’s awake,” a voice said. 

Crowley’s eyes flashed open. He was in some sort of dark room with metal wall smelling strongly of rust. His hands were tied above his head with chains. That explained the pain then. Two men stood watching him. Crowley rolled his eyes and prepared to miracle his way out of the building. 

Nothing happened. 

“Can’t magic yourself out of this, demon,” one man said pointing above his head. There was a sigal there to dampen his power. Though he was pretty sure the two men before him were human only an angel or demon would know how to draw that sigil. 

“What do you want?” Crowley asked, “Money? Power?”

“Nothing like that, we’re experimenting.” 

“Ah, trying your hands at demon killing then? Or is it just going to be torture? Or are you going for surprise?” 

“None of that. You’re bait.” 

Crowley laughed, “Bait. You think you’ll attract more demons? Well I hate to break it to you but I’m not very well liked. Kinda betrayed them a dozen years back or so.” 

“You misunderstand demon. We’re not hunting your kind.” 

Crowley swallowed hard. Aziraphale? How would they even know what he was and Crowley’s relationship with Aziraphale. They were in America far away from anyone who would know them. And what did they want with an angel?

“If you’re not hunting demon I’m not sure what I’m bait for. Might as well just torture me,” Crowley said. 

“We know what your friend is. We need him to prove the existence of God. To help our righteous cause!” 

“Uh where do you people come from? The Almighty exists no matter what you say. Leave people to their own way to Them.” 

One of the men pushed a button and the floor dropped out beneath Crowley. He fell a few feet, and thought his shoulders were pulled to straining they didn’t dislocate. Still it hurt and Crowley cursed the men. He struggled against the chains. 

“Wouldn’t do that demon.” 

“Oh and why not?”

“Look down.” 

Crowley looked down and noticed a large pool of water beneath him. No. They couldn’t have gotten ahold of that much Holy Water. Could they?

“Rumor has it Holy Water will kill you, destroy you forever. Your friend will help us, or we’ll drop you. Might do that anyway since you are a demon. Spawn of Satan.” 

“Not how it works,” Crowley said trying to take his mind off the death pool beneath him, “The Almighty made me. I was an angel and then fell.” 

“Shut up,” the man said. 

“Make me,” Crowley said snarling at them. The man pushed the button again and Crowley fell. He stopped short a mere two feet above the water his left shoulder dislocating with the sudden stop. Crowley cried out. 

He couldn’t help but look down at that water. So close, if they dropped him it would be all over in an instant. Part of him hoped that Aziraphale would come and save him but most of him wanted Aziraphale to stay away from these crazy bastards. 

Just then something in the air changed. Crowley held his breath. He knew it was Aziraphale, but if the angel didn’t act fast enough Crowley could still fall. Aziraphale appeared behind the men and with a snap of his fingers the men were still. 

“Aziraphale!” 

“Crowley, oh thank God.” 

“Help me down angel, it’s Holy Water beneath me, my shoulder’s hurt.” 

Aziraphale unfurled his wings and flew up to get Crowley down from where he was shackled. Crowley clung tight to Aziraphale with his good right arm. He couldn’t help but burrow slightly into his shoulder and Aziraphale flew them down. 

Once free of the chains and from beneath the sigil he could use his full power. He snapped the shoulder back into place with a groan and stared at the two paralyzed men. 

“Now,” Aziraphale snapped freeing the men, “What was it you were going to ask of me? I like it better now that we’re not trying to get one up on the other.” 

Crowley smiled at the slack jawed men. 

“You, you’re an angel?”

Aziraphale gave his wings a flap, “Yes.” 

“We...well we…” 

“I think,” Aziraphale interrupted, “That you you were mistaken in how this was going to go. I am not at your service to promote your misguided ideas. My orders come from God.” 

“We...we’re sorry…” 

“Shut up Mitch, that’s no angel!” 

“Of course he is Brad, look at the wings! He froze us still. I’m leaving, can I leave?” Mitch asked. 

“I think you should have a good long thought on what you are doing with your life young man,” Aziraphale said, “But you can leave.” Mitch made an awkward little bow and ran out of the old warehouse glancing back at both of them. 

“Well what are we going to do with this one?” Crowley asked, “Dunk him in Holy Water? See if he melts.” 

“My dear…” 

Brad the human must have had a sudden burst of bravery, or stupidity, because he jumped up grabbing a weapon and shooting the pool behind them. Crowley opened his wings and jumped up to avoid the Holy Water as Aziraphale was splashed. 

“Well that proves I’m not a demon,” Azirapahel snapped the remnants of Holy Water away and Crowley flew down. 

“Come on angel,” Crowley said, “I’m getting tired of this.” 

Aziraphale was about to answer when the air around them exploded. Aziraphale cried out as he was struck by several bullets. Crowley growled in anger and snapped. In an instant they were back in Soho, back in the bookshop. A sudden teleportation like that was quite bright and the man may have been blinded. Crowley didn’t care. 

Aziraphale groaned as he collapsed on the couch. 

“Hold on angel, I’ve got you,” Crowley said. Aziraphale had been hit three times very near the wing joint. It appeared that the bullets had gone through and he didn’t appear wounded anywhere else. Aziraphale was already starting to heal, the blood had stopped flowing. It didn’t seem like he was in danger of discorporating. 

“You’re doing good Aziraphale, healing just fine.” 

“Those...those bastards!” 

“I know angel, I know.” 

Once the wounds were healed and as soon as Aziraphale was ready Crowley began to clean the bloody feathers and down. Aziraphale sighed in relief. 

“There all done. You’re good angel. Thank you. For saving me.” 

“Well I figured that it was my turn to save you for a change my dear. Those bastards. I can’t believe what some people will do. How did they even know how to get you?”

Crowley shrugged, “If I had to guess a demon told them. Maybe one who hates me. Either way we’re safe now angel.” Aziraphale turned around, folding his wings away and kissed Crowley lightly on the lips. 

“Yes we are,” he said. 

Crowley smiled before pulling him closer for more kissing.


	10. Unconscious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale can't help but cry after handing Crowley the Holy Water, how long will he wait before he checks to see if Crowley used it?

Aziraphale began sobbing even before he’d fully locked the bookshop door behind him. He sank down with his back against the door and continued to sob putting his face in his hands and drawing his knees up. 

He’d done it. He’d handed Crowley the Holy Water. Would he know when he used it? Would he feel a gaping hole in the universe without Crowley in it? Would he do it that night? A week? Years? How painful would it be? 

How much pain was Crowley in that he wanted to kill himself? Crowley kept saying that wasn’t want he wanted it for, but Aziraphale had a hard time picturing Crowley destroying other demons. That wasn’t Crowley, Crowley was such a soft being underneath it all and...oh that was probably part of it too and and....

Aziraphale couldn’t let him go on with his foolish robbery though. What if the humans he’d hired thought it was silly and started splashing the water around? What if one single drop had been left on the outside of a bottle and Crowley touched it? Aziraphale wanted to go right then and there to take the Holy Water back but he couldn’t...couldn’t let Crowley risk himself like that. 

Aziraphale couldn’t think of a world without Crowley. He knew it was dangerous, that if anyone in heaven or hell caught on to what was going on Crowley would be destroyed. Aziraphale didn’t know what would happen to him. But for Crowley to take himself out was worse, though he supposed he could understand wanting to be in control of such an event. 

How Aziraphale wished he could march into Crowley’s flat and profess his love. To tell Crowley he was the most important being in his life and he couldn’t bear the thought of him being gone forever. 

He loved Crowley, and he knew Crowley loved him. He had a feeling Crowley wanted to proceed with their relationship but the danger was too much. 

“Oh Crowley,” he sobbed. 

Aziraphale felt the tension of what he had done for weeks after. He felt that any moment he would be told Crowley was gone. Gabriel might come down and inform him that a new demon was assigned to the area, or a new demon might appear in the shop to try to antagonize him. Or he’d get a goodbye call from Crowley. Or a letter apologizing. 

Every day was agony. 

At last, a month after handing over the Holy Water, he could take it no more. He had to go see Crowley, to see if he’d done it or looked like he was about to. 

It was his first time going to that particular flat in London. The doorbell on the outside had a snake cover and Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile at it. He rang the bell. There was no answer. He knocked. Still no answer. 

Aziraphale figured that Crowley was there; the Bentley was on the curb outside, but he supposed the demon could be out. But he had to know. He sighed and miracled the door open. 

“Crowley?”

He looked around the sparse flat suddenly very self conscious and wanting to leave, but he had to check. He found his way to the bedroom and gasped at what he saw. 

Crowley was on the bed, on his back arms across his chest.

Aziraphale gasped, “Oh.” His heart was pounding in his chest, despair and panic filled him until his mind caught up with him. If Crowley had used the Holy Water there would be nothing left. And he was still breathing. He was asleep or otherwise unconscious. 

Aziraphale blushed feeling quite silly all of a sudden. What if Crowley were to wake up and see him like this? And yet...and yet Aziraphale wanted nothing more than to cross the short distance and get into the bed with Crowley and hold him. Tell him how much he was loved and wanted. 

He couldn’t. Not now, maybe not ever. But he could hope. Oh he would always hope that there would be a time they could act on the relationship. And he hoped that Crowley would hold on for long enough to get there. 

“I love you Crowley,” Aziraphale whispered to his unconscious friend, “Please hold on.” Aziraphale left Crowley to his slumber. 

Aziraphale’s heart hurt, his entire being hurt. Loving Crowley, sometimes, could be so very painful, but he knew well that it was also worth it. The pleasure that could come from it, oh there was nothing like it. Loving Crowley was worth the pain.

Aziraphale would never give up hope that one day things would work out.


	11. Stitches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale has a little problem he can't fix alone and only one person, or demon, to go to.

Crowley woke to a sharp quick knock on his door. He was going to ignore it at first but then something caught his senses and he realized that it was Aziraphale. He jumped up miracling clothes on and throwing the door open. 

“Aziraphale?” 

“Crowley, I uh, hello. I need your help.” 

“Of course, come in I...ngk, angel you’re bleeding!” 

Aziraphale had a long cut on his lower back dripping blood. 

“Afraid so dear,” Aziraphale said. Crowley miracled a couch in the middle of his barren office and miracled medical supplies. 

“What happened?”

“I stopped a demon from tempting a young lady, he cut me. Damned blade, can’t heal it. It won’t stop bleeding. Can you stitch it up dear?”

“Of course, of course,” Crowley said. He made sure he had all the right supplies gathered up and sat behind Aziraphale, “I’m going to need to get your shirt off angel.” 

Aziraphale took care of that for him snapping the garments away and exposing the wound. Crowley hissed. It was deep, deeper at the top and getting shallow toward the end of the four inch long cut. He put his hand Aziraphale’s back and the angel jerked. 

“Sorry,” Crowley said. 

“Bad?” Aziraphale asked. 

“It is deep angel, I can’t tell what got hit. Can’t tell if anything important got cut, but I’ll do what I can. I’ll try to numb it a bit but it’s probably going to hurt.” 

“I know.” 

Crowley took a deep breath and he put the tip of the needle to the cut. Aziraphale kept as still as he could and Crowley back off whenever a cry would slip from the angel’s lips. He took a longer break halfway through to pour a drink for Aziraphale. He wanted one for himself but he didn’t want to impair his ability to stitch. 

He didn’t like seeing the angel bleeding, didn’t like the way he tensed and breathed harshly through the pain. Crowley knew this had to be done but he didn’t like causing Aziraphale pain. 

At last it was over, “Done stitching, I’ll get this covered up we’re almost done. You’re doing just fine angel.” Aziraphale gave a brief sigh of relief and relaxed a little. Crowley cut the bandage to size and searched for his tape. 

With the main work done he started to have another feeling. He’d seen Aziraphale shirtless before but here in his flat was different. He had the sudden urge to run his hands down the angel’s back, to wrap his hands around Aziraphale and touch his chest, pull him closer. Crowley swallowed that down and finished bandaging the wound. 

“All done angel,” he said. 

“Oh thank you my dear, such a nice demon.” 

“Now none of that,” Crowley said with a laugh. Aziraphale turned gingerly to face him with a smile. Crowley couldn’t help but glance at the shirtless angel. All soft body and hair that looked as soft as down. Aziraphale thank goodness was too distracted to notice Crowley staring. Crowley got a drink for himself and when he’d returned Aziraphale had miracled a loose fitting robe on. Maybe he had noticed after all. 

Aziraphale thanked him again and they spent the rest of the evening talking and drinking until Aziraphale insisted he had to go home. Crowley offered to go with him, to drive him, make sure he got home safe but Aziraphale had regained enough power and simply miracled himself home. 

Crowley sighed wishing that Aziraphale would have stayed just a little longer.


	12. "Don't Move"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor and Loki go adventuring and find creatures they weren't expecting.

Loki didn’t particularly feel like going on a quest. He would much rather stay home and work on his own projects but Thor was in a mood and wouldn’t go without him. They were headed to Nifelheim to search for a legendary beast for Thor to kill. 

Of course there were other things on Nifelheim one might find, ingredients for magic being one of them and Loki decided it might be worth it. And it would get Thor to shut up. 

Still, now that he was winding his way through narrow gorges in the pouring rain not having seen anything remotely interesting he would much rather be home. To punctuate that though he slipped grabbing out and scraping his wrist on the sharp rock leaving a thin line of blood. 

“Thor, do you actually know where you are leading us?” Loki asked. 

“Of course I do,” Thor said.

“You didn’t have to come Loki,” Sif said. 

“Just curious,” Loki muttered. They came around a bend in the gorge and were met but an impenetrable wall. Loki started laughing. It rarely happened that Thor’s arrogance bit him in the ass and rare for Loki to see it. This was almost worth all the trudging. 

“I think this maps outdated,” Thor said. 

“Or you can’t read it,” Loki said. 

“We’ll just have to climb then,” Thor said ignoring Loki. Thor led the way and was halfway up the slope he laughed, “Ha, a cave!” Thor went into the cave with Sif and the warriors three following without a word. Loki sighed and shook his head, calling forth magical light so they could at least see where they were going. 

He left a trail of magic behind them so they could find their way out again when they got lost. Loki had to admit though that it was nice to get out of the rain. It was still damp in the cave and water dripped from the low ceiling but it was better than the constant rain. Loki noticed signs that the cave system was inhabited. Scat and bones and an animal sort of smell. While Thor was busy getting them lost Loki tried to think of what dangers could be around the next corner. Thor certainly wasn’t thinking about it. 

Thor was looking for a dragon to slay, but Loki’s mind went through what was more likely to be in the cave. He recalled a story about a cave creature called Dimmerlingr who were large lizard like creatures with vine like appendages that would snap out and draw in prey. Those could be in the caves. He recalled a detail that they were said to smell like apples and then he started smelling apples. 

He was bored and his imagination was running away with him and he hoped that they found a way out of that Thor decided to turn around. 

“Ha! I see light ahead, we’re almost through!” 

Loki was glad that at least they would be out of the cave, but wasn’t looking forward to the rain again. 

“Well this is...interesting,” Thor said. Loki came out into the rain to see that they were in some sort of sunken bowl. There was no ceiling the rain came pouring in but there didn’t look to be any other way out. 

“Thor I think we should fly out of here,” Sif said. Loki looked where she was glancing and saw a large pile of bones.

“What smells like apples?” Fandral asked. 

“We need to get out of here,” Loki said, “Dimmerlingr.” Thor frowned. 

“Dangerous creatures,” Loki said. 

“Right,” Thor said, “I’ll take you up one by one.” Thor held his hand out to Sif and held Mjolnir skyward. Loki kept an eye out for any signs of creatures of any kind and Thor took their friends up. Thor left Loki to the last. Just as Thor landed before him Loki saw something. 

“Don’t move.” 

“What?”

“Keep still, they hunt by movement.” 

Thor frowned but managed to keep still as three Dimmerlingr came from the cave they had just been in. They were each a good five feet long, maybe three feet tall. Loki was frozen. The Dimmerlingr must have smelled something different and came to investigate. Loki tried to keep still, and even Thor looked scared. 

The Dimmerlingr smelled of apples and rotting flesh. They sent their vines forward around Thor and Loki. There was a distance of ten feet between Thor and Loki, too much for Loki to run. One of the vines wraps around Thor’s leg. Thor looks at Loki then moves his eyes upward. 

Thor wanted him to go. Loki wouldn’t leave Thor alone and shook his head slightly. Loki moved his hand slowly sending a double far away from both of them to try to draw the creatures away. It didn’t work. 

The Dimmerling closest to Loki noticed the movement and a vine snapped around his neck pulling him onto his back and away from Thor.

“No!” Thor called out and all hell broke loose. Loki called a knife to his hand and cut at the vine, nearly severing it and turned to face the creature. It lunged at him, front claws digging into his shoulder. Loki cried out but was able to capitalize on the creature’s mistake of leaving it’s throat exposed. Dark greenish blood spilled over him and he turned to see where Thor was. 

Thor had killed one, and was rushing toward Loki. Loki met him halfway and Thor flew them away from the cave. 

“Bring water!” Thor called out to the others as he sat Loki down, “Loki look at me, where are you hurt?”

“Left shoulder,” Loki managed. Things were still a little numb and his bruised throat was bothering him more than the shoulder. 

“Look at me Loki, deep breaths, you’re alright. I’ve got you brother.” 

Loki hadn’t realized he’d been hyperventilating, but once aware he slowed his breathing down. Normally he wouldn’t like Thor fussing over him but as Thor cleaned the blood off of him Loki was grateful. 

“Sif, bring me anything we have for bandages, these cuts are deep,” Thor said. Loki looked over at his shoulder, three deep claw wounds oozing blood. He felt sick and dizzy looking at it and groaned. 

“You’re doing well Loki, we’ll get you wrapped up,” Thor said. Thor and Sif managed to get the bandages tight enough to stem the flow of blood. The warriors three built a fire and got camp set up as darkness started to fall. 

“We’ll leave at first light Loki, unless you need to leave now. I can try to call Heimdall.” 

“I’ll make it Thor,” Loki said, “Thank you.” 

“Of course brother, but if things get worse you must let me know.” 

Loki nodded. From what he could tell he’d stopped bleeding and Dimmerling weren’t venomous. His heart was strong and steady and he breathed normally, he had not lost too much blood. His throat was still sore and it hurt to swallow but there was no grave injury there. 

Loki had to admit Thor was handling the situation well, having one of the warriors on guard all night and keeping an eye on Loki. By morning Loki was glad to be leaving. He felt weak and just wanted to go home. 

Thor flew him to the pick up sight and called Heimdall to take Loki before going back to help the rest of their friends. 

In the end it took over three hundred stitches to properly close the wounds and he would likely need to put effort into regaining proper use of the shoulder. But he was alive and it was good to be home. 

“I shouldn’t have led us into those caves,” Thor said, “I’m sorry, brother.” 

Loki shrugged, “I didn’t think about those creatures until we were well in the cave. And we got out of it alright.” 

“I’m glad. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Thor said. 

“Get eaten by strange creatures while getting lost in caves?” Loki suggested and Thor laughed.


	13. Adrenaline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor doesn't realize he's hurt until the adrenaline from the battle starts to wear off.

Thor brought Mjolnir crashing down on the ground taking out a half dozen enemies that had been charging toward him. He let out a war cry and the rest of the group hesitated. 

“Come on!” Thor called out.

The leader of the group of bandits looked around then took off running. Thor laughed and gave chase for a short time before stopping. They were not worth the effort to hunt down. They had got what they came for; a valuable ship’s log that Odin sent them after. 

He turned around and walked toward Loki, Sif, and the Warrior’s Three. They were all staring at him and Loki looked particularly worried. Thor threw a glance over his shoulder wondering if the bandits had some sort of giant creature or were sending some sort of bombs their way and saw nothing. 

“What?”

“Thor, I think you’d better sit down,” Loki said. 

“And why would…” It hit him suddenly. A vicious wave of pain as the adrenaline of the fight drained away. Thor groaned and looked for the source of pain. Oh. The handle of a short sword was protruding from his just beneath his ribs. He vaguely recalled getting hit there, but in the middle of battle he had ignored it. He felt suddenly weak and sank to his knees. 

“Didn’t notice that,” Thor said. But now that he’d seen it he felt it. His muscles were cramping around the intruding blade it felt like the area was on fire. The pain was making him sick to his stomach.

“Thor?” 

Loki’s face swam before him and his brother looked worried. Thor was worried, a bit, but they were close to home. He could make it home. 

“Thor I’m going to cast a spell to get us home, I need you to keep still alright?”

“No. Ridiculous. I can walk,” Thor said. He tried to push himself up but he fell down with a cry as the movement jarred the sword. 

“Ah, you fool. Keep still!”

“Right. Right.” 

Thor closed his eyes his head was starting to swim with dizziness and the pain would not stop and he was very tempted to just pull the sword out himself. He tried to stay as still as possible as Loki transported them home. 

There was a flurry of movement and then they were in the healing chambers and the healers were giving him instructions. He was having a hard time paying attention and before long the darkness on the edge of his vision closed in and he was out. 

When he woke Loki was pacing back and forth in front of his bed and looking worried. 

“Stop that,” Thor said and Loki did turning to Thor. 

“Thor, you fool,” Loki said coming over to his bed. He protested but Thor could see that Loki was genuinely worried. 

“Didn’t realize I had gotten stabbed,” he said. 

“You were so amped up on adrenaline I’m not surprised. But I got you here in time. Eir says you’ll make a full recovery.” 

“Thank you Loki, for getting me back here. Though I really think I could have walked back.” 

Loki snorted, “Right. That might have been entertaining if it wouldn’t have killed you.” 

“How long do I have to be here?”

“A couple of days probably,” Loki said and Thor moaned. He didn’t want to stay in bed even if would otherwise hurt. It was going to be boring. 

“Don’t worry I have a feeling the others are busy planning some sort of feast or adventure for the moment you are able to get up.” 

“Good. And you’ll be there too?”

“Of course brother.”


	14. Tear Stained

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With long lived beings there's a first time for everything, including car crashes. (Got a bit graphic with the crash scene, skip to the midway break if you want to avoid it.)

Crowley drove the Bentley along the country road as fast as he dared, weaving in and out of traffic and long narrow roads. He could tell Aziraphale was uncomfortable with the speed but Crowley knew the route well and the weather was good and besides the sooner they got to the park the sooner the picnic could begin. 

“My dear if you take another corner like that you’ll break all the bottles of wine.” 

“Don’t worry angel, they’ll be fine.” 

“The park will still be there you know.” 

Crowley didn’t dignify that with an answer but did slow down a little bit. He didn’t mean to antagonize Aziraphale, he really didn’t, but he loved the thrill of going fast. It turned out, though, that Crowley wasn’t the only crazy driver out on the road.

Crowley came around the corner, staying completely in his lane and even slowing a bit. The car going in the opposite direction did not. Crowley heard Aziraphale gasp as he expertly maneuvered the Bently to make sure the impact hit full on the drivers side, just in front of his seat. Both cars spun. Crowley imagined they’d stop right on the edge of the road, well before they went over the large drop.

He didn’t count on the other other car. 

The second car came skidding into the Bentley just behind Aziraphale and sent them over the edge. Crowley tried to keep everything together but he couldn’t see through the thick bush, they hit rolled and went off a second cliff. Crowley couldn’t make out when they’d hit and tried the best he could to keep them both braced for impact.

It all happened so fast. If there was time he probably would have miracled them out of there or stopped or something else. But he didn’t and Aziraphale didn’t seem able either. They hit something hard, Crowley crashed against the steering wheel. 

That was bad, that hurt, but it didn’t fully register. What registered was Aziraphale flying through the windscreen with a cry of pain. The Bentley wasn’t quite done yet rolling several times before finally coming to a stop. 

It would have been easier to discorporate; it would have been less painful to discorporate, but Crowley couldn’t. Not when he didn’t know what happened to Aziraphale. 

Crowley was hurt, bad. He had to heal his corporation a little. His chest was crushed, his spine snapped just above the hips. It took time, painful time but he was able to heal enough to move so he could stumble and crawl and find Aziraphale. 

Crowley found Aziraphale a hundred feet up the hillside, lying on his back, trembling. Crowley felt his stomach lurch as his mind caught up with what he was seeing. 

There was blood everywhere, Aziraphale had been badly cut by the glass of the windscreen. The glass had nearly eviscerated him, Crowley could see...he wasn’t sure. Organs. Aziraphale’s lower body was angled in a way that made Crowley think his hips and legs were broken. He was taking in short gasps of air, blood seeping from his lips.

He was awake. 

And crying in pain. 

“Aziraphale,” Crowley crawled toward him looking down into his eyes. Pain was all he saw.

“Angel, you have to discorporate. You’ll be alright, just let go.” 

Aziraphale seemed to recognize him but was otherwise confused. Crowley couldn’t imagine the pain Aziraphale was in. Just then Aziraphale tensed letting out a strained cry of pain followed by a burst of blood from his mouth. He started to choke and Crowley managed to turn his head enough to clear his airway. 

“Angel you need to discorporate, pleasssse. I love you, please. God please,” Crowley murmured. Aziraphale stiffened again, then was still. 

*

Aziraphale woke suddenly, gazing around in the darkness feeling that something wasn't quite right. He didn’t sleep often, but he’d been snuggling with Crowley and it had just happened. 

There was a sound. A sob, then the sound of quiet crying. 

“Crowley?” With a snap Aziraphale turned on the light. Crowley was facing away from him curled into a tight ball and shaking. Gently Aziraphale turned him over his heart hurting at the sight of Crowley’s tear stained face. 

“Crowley love, wake up,” Aziraphale coaxed him. Crowley continued to sob in his sleep and Aziraphale had to shake him to get him to wake up. Crowley jerked awake looking at Aziraphale and started to sob harder. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, angel I’m sorry.” 

“Oh Crowley, my dear, there’s nothing to be sorry for. You were dreaming.” 

But Crowley continued to cry and apologize. Over and over. It took a half hour or so for Aziraphale got him calmed down enough to figure out what was going on. 

“I...I killed you,” Crowley said, “C...crashed the Bentley. Oh God!” 

“Crowley look at me,” Aziraphale said gently tipping Crowley’s chin up, “Crowley you’ve done no such thing it was a nightmare. I’m here and I’m fine.” 

Crowley looked at him, “Nightmare?”

Aziraphale nodded, “Yes love a nightmare. We’re both fine. You haven’t hurt me. We’re safe at home.” 

Crowley looked around their house and then back to Aziraphale, “Oh. Nightmare.”

“Only a nightmare my dear, we’re home. We’re safe.” 

Crowley pulled Aziraphale closer, “I love you.” 

“I love you too my dear,” Aziraphale kissed his forehead.

“Oh that was bad angel, oh that felt so real. I’m sorry for waking you.” 

“It’s alright my love. I’m sorry your dream upset you so much. I’m here and we’re safe,” Aziraphale said running his hand through Crowley’s hair. 

“I crashed the Bentley, wasn’t even going fast. I tried to keep us both safe. You...you went through the windscreen. Got torn up. You were suffering, in so much pain. I’m sorry. I couldn’t save you, I killed you.” 

“Oh my dear that sounds dreadful,” Aziraphale said. Crowley started to cry a little bit but it didn’t evolve into sobbing and he soon stopped.

“I love you angel,” Crowley said, “Would kill me to loose you like that.” 

“I know,” Aziraphale said. For a long time they cuddled in bed together neither of them talking or sleeping, just being with each other until it started to get light outside. The light came in the window and fell on Crowley’s tear stained face. It hurt to look at Crowley in so much pain, especially over a nightmare. 

“You are such a sweet being Crowley, so full of love,” Aziraphale said stroking his face.

Crowley blushed, “Angel.” 

“It’s true,” Aziraphale said kissing him, “Now, shall we get up? The sun is out and I’d like to have breakfast and watch you garden.” 

Crowley laughed, “I bet you would. Thank you angel.” 

“Of course my dear.”


	15. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley opens up to Aziraphale about the scars he has from falling.

Aziraphale was humming and moving around in slight dancing motion as he got undressed and ready to go to bed. He’d had fun at the concert. He hadn’t really expected to if he was honest with himself; it was one of Crowley’s bands and there were bright lights and it was altogether too loud, and yet it had been fun. The drinks were good and Crowley had been having such a good time that he couldn’t help but enjoy it too. 

Aziraphale came into the bedroom hopping into bed next to Crowley. He smiled looking over at his husband but the smile faded a little as he saw Crowley’s face. He looked distant. Lost in himself and his thoughts. Not what Aziraphale would have expected. 

“Crowley? Are you alright love?”

“Hmm. I’m...well mmm.” 

“What is it dear?”

“Someone said the thing to me, you know, pick up line.” 

“Oh. I’m sorry my dear,” Aziraphale said. Aziraphale understood why humans used that particular pick up line, he really did. Insinuating that their target was an angel was meant to be a compliment. But to mention falling and pain...that was a part easy to ignore if one were human and not a Fallen Angel. 

“I shouldn’t let it bother me. I had fun tonight, I really did. Looked like you were having fun too,” Crowley said. 

“I did love, I did.” 

Crowley looked pensive for quite some time before looking at Aziraphale, “Angel, can I show you something?”

“Of course.” 

“I...well it made me think about Falling of course. And I’ve told you about that. How it hurt and then that I didn’t feel anything for a long time. But I’ve never shown you what it did to me. Physically.” 

“There are marks left? Do they hurt you still?”

“No. Noticeable like all scars but they don’t hurt.” 

Crowley got out of bed unfolding his wings and letting some of his true form shine through so Aziraphale could see it. There were scars around Crowley’s wings, and long scratches down the middle of his back. The skin was a patchy sort of mottled look.

“Burns?” Aziraphale asked, knowing Crowley would know what he meant. 

“Yes, the sulphur pool I fell in burned. I hit back first couldn’t protect myself,” Crowley said. He turned to face Aziraphale and Aziraphale gasped.

“Oh Crowley.” 

There was a horrible wound running from his navel up toward his sternum. Something had tried to kill him. Aziraphale had a sickening feeling who had done it but couldn’t bring himself to ask. 

“I don’t remember what angel did this to me. Should have killed me. Don’t know why it didn’t. Should have,” Crowley said. After a few more moments Crowley blushed and covered it all up and folded his wings away. 

“Come here my dear,” Aziraphale said. Crowley got on the bed and Aziraphale wrapped his arms around him. 

“I’m sorry you were hurt my love, but I’m glad you feel safe enough showing me.” 

“Never showed anyone before. I just want you to see me. Maybe understand me, oh I don’t know,” Crowley said. 

“I love you Crowley. I can’t imagine how much that would have hurt. Physically and mentally. I’m so glad you survived and kept true to yourself. Stayed kind. And soft.” 

Crowley was blushing a deeper shade of red with every word but he held tight to Aziraphale. 

“I love you Aziraphale.”


	16. Pinned Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley finds himself being led toward torture in hell; he thinks he might know why.

Crowley knew things were going to be bad when Beelzebub showed up in his flat. The Prince of Hell never came up to earth unless something had gone horribly wrong. Crowley had made what he thought were some minor mistakes on two of his latest temptations but that couldn’t be what Beelzebub was there for. 

Which meant they knew about him and Aziraphale. Or had some sort of suspicion. 

Crowley tried to hide his apprehension as Beelzebub took him back to hell. Normally when he was called back, for minor paperwork problems or some sort of stupid meeting, he met with Beelzebub in their office or a group meeting room on the main level. 

They didn’t go to the main level. 

They went to level H. Oh he was in for torment then. He could take it he just had to make sure to not say anything about Aziraphale. He would not give the angel up. He couldn’t. Not even if they tortured him forever. He figured Beelzebub would get bored before that. 

“Demon Crowley do you know why you are here?”

“No Lord Beelzebub, I’m afraid I don’t.” 

“Very well,” Beelzebub ushered a couple of other Demon’s that Crowley didn’t know into the room. 

“Spread your wings and lie down,” one of them ordered. Crowley glanced at Beelzebub who motioned for him to follow the orders. Crowley opened his wings up and lay down on his back.

“One more time. What did you do Crowley?”

“I don’t know my lord.” 

There was a demon to either side of him and they both took out long spikes of metal and what looked like sledgehammers. Crowley started breathing heavily in anticipation of the pain. They moved in unison and Crowley couldn’t help but scream in pain as they hammered the pins through the bones of his wings, pinning him down against the ground. 

He wanted to discorporate, he couldn’t discorporate, not here he was physically unable to do it here in hell in the room of torment. Crowley was trapped in his corporation for the duration of the torture. 

“What did you do?”

“I’m sorry lord I don’t know,” Crowley said. The demons twisted the pins and Crowley grunted. They let him sit like that for a few moments before taking Crowley’s arms and slightly smaller pins. They drove the pins into the center of his forearm as Crowley screamed. 

They would continue with this; his legs would be next then they would probably drive pins into his body until they got what they wanted. He wouldn’t do it. Wouldn’t divulge a single detail about Aziraphale. 

He was shaking in pain, tears running down his face.

“What did you do?”

“I failed to tempt the priest!” Crowley cried out. He had to say something, anything, maybe it would take a few seconds for Beelzebub to decide to continue. To his surprise they did stop. 

“Was that so hard?” Beelzebub asked, “You failed that temptation and you lied about it. This was an important mission Crowley!” 

Crowley couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Really? That was it; just for that failed temptation they were torturing him? He was also very thankful that it had nothing to do with Aziraphale. 

“Don’t disappoint us again,” Beelzebub said. 

For a moment Crowley thought they were going to leave him there, pinned like sort of insect for a few days or centuries but the torment demons pulled the pins out in short succession leaving Crowley panting, groaning, and bleeding. 

Beelzebub turned to look at Crowley one more time and snapped. Crowley found himself standing in his flat blood dripping from his wings and arms. He couldn’t just miracle it away but if he did nothing he might be discorporated and would probably be stuck in hell for a long time before being let back on earth. 

He needed help.

There was only one person to call. 

“Aziraphale, I…” 

“Crowley? What’s wrong?”

“Can you come over please. I need help.” 

Aziraphale was there in a matter of seconds before Crowley could even wrap a shirt around the wounds in his arms. 

“Oh Crowley, my dear fellow what on earth happened?”

“Not on earth. Hell.” 

“Oh. Come on let’s get you on the bed in case you pass out,” Aziraphale said. Crowley could hear the slight tremble in the angel’s voice. Aziraphale helped him up and into the bedroom setting him down on the bed. A series of miracles later and there were medical supplies all around them. 

“Is it just the arms dear?”

“Wings too. They pinned me to the ground.” 

“What did you do?”

“Failed an important temptation.” 

“Don’t worry I’ll take care of you,” Aziraphale said. Crowley was shaking with the pain from the wounds feeling very very tired. He just wanted to lie down and sleep. But that would probably get him discorporated. 

“Stay awake dear,” Aziraphale said. 

“Mm trying, ow!” 

“Sorry.” 

Aziraphale finished bandaging his arms. Crowley tried to ignore they way that Aziraphale was now shaking almost as much as he was. Crowley wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and have Aziraphale wrap his arms around him. 

“Thank you angel.” 

“Don’t thank me yet, I’ve still got to look at the wings.” 

Crowley groaned. Aziraphale let him sit for a while before Crowley crawled onto the bed settling down on his stomach before opening his wings. He cried out as he spread them gripping the sheets tight tears spilling from his eyes. 

“Oh Crowley. I’m going to go as slow and careful as I can but this is going to hurt,” Aziraphale said. 

“I know.” 

“Let me know if I need to stop for a moment,” Aziraphale said. Crowley tried to keep his mind off what Aziraphale was doing. Under any other circumstances he would be ecstatic to have the angel in his bed. 

Crowley tried to keep the whimpering and crying to a minimum but there were several times where he just couldn’t help it. Each time Aziraphale would stop, tell him he was doing well and let him rest a few moments before starting up again. 

He didn’t know how long it took but he was shaking and dripping with sweat by the time it was over. Aziraphale helped him lie down drawing the covers over him. Aziraphale miracled wine for both of them. 

“Thank you angel. I owe you one,” Crowley said. 

“Do try to take care my dear,” Aziraphale said, “It’s getting late. I should get back.” 

“Aziraphale…” 

Crowley wanted to ask Aziraphale to stay. Even if it was just in the flat. Really he wanted Aziraphale to crawl into bed with him and stay the night. But he knew Aziraphale wouldn’t do it, that it would be too dangerous and too fast for him. So Crowley swallowed it down.

“Yes dear?”

“Will you check on me in the morning? Maybe I can buy you breakfast afterwards?”

“That sounds lovely dear, take care and goodnight.” 

“Thank you angel, I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Crowley watched him go wishing that he would turn around and come back. But it was good to have Aziraphale as a friend. Crowley thought something he’d thought many times before. I would die for him.


	17. "Stay with me"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being Hulk smashed Loki appears to be dying; a reluctant Steve has a decision to make.

Steve caught sight of the Hulk leaving to top of Stark Tower. The last known location of Loki was in the tower and he had a feeling Hulk might have taken care of that particular problem. But he had to be sure. He approached slowly knowing that whatever he saw was likely to be false. 

What he saw was Loki in a crater, trembling and gasping for air thin whimpers escaping his lips. Steve looked around for the real Loki. He couldn’t see anything. 

Steve walked toward Loki not really knowing why he was getting closer to the dangerous villain. As Steve got closer Loki looked at him. Steve frowned. 

It looked real. Sounded real. 

Loki’s legs were twisted at odd painful looking angles, one arm looked imobile the other twitching where it lay on his chest. There was blood dripping from his lips, and a pool of it beneath him. His breathing came in short wet sounding gasps with the occasional groan of pain. Loki looked scared. 

All of Steve’s instincts told him to back off and leave Loki. It would keep Steve out of danger if this was fake and he didn’t owe Loki a damned thing. 

But as he started to back away Loki’s lips started to move. He was trying to speak. 

“This is stupid,” Steve told himself but there was something in the pleading look in his eyes that made Steve come forward and kneel next to Loki. Loki looked at him and spoke softly. 

“Stay with me.” 

Steve considered the situation. There were probably much better things he could be doing; more helpful things. And there was still the chance that Loki was faking it and getting ready to stab Steve in the back. The fear in Loki’s eyes looked real though and in the end Steve gave in.

“I won’t leave,” Steve said. Loki seemed to calm down a little. Tears slipped free from his face. Steve was still conflicted about staying, about what he should be feeling but he was starting to notice things about Loki he’d missed. Dark circles under both eyes, lean to the point of starvation, and how young he actually was. Not in terms of human years but in the lives of his own people. 

And Loki was dying. Loki was defeated and dying painfully, there was no need to add cruelty on Steve’s part. And Thor was going to be heartbroken no matter what. 

Something was wrong with Steve’s comms and he couldn’t get word to the others; he was sure they would get there eventually. He hoped Thor would get there before Loki died, so he could say goodbye to his brother. 

Loki grunted eyes rolling back in his head, twitching and then going into painful looking convulsions. 

“Damn it.” 

The convulsions lasted thirty seconds or so and Steve hoped that Loki would slip into unconsciousness and pass away. But Loki was still awake coming back to consciousness crying and gasping for air. 

“Loki, easy. Easy.” Steve took Loki’s good hand and squeezed it, Loki returned it weakly. Loki’s eyes started to roll back and he seized again. He came back from the second seizure barely breathing and only somewhat conscious. 

Loki whispered Thor’s name and something that sounded like ‘mama’. Steve squeezed his hand and watched as Loki took his last breath. 

Thor was the first to arrive; about ten minutes after his brother passed. Thor fell to his knees and started to sob over Loki’s body. Steve left him to grieve alone. 

Thor planned to take his brother’s body home and after they got some things straightened out Thor was ready to leave. 

“Steve thank you, for staying with Loki. I...I’m glad he wasn’t alone.” 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything Thor.” 

“You did what you could and I am grateful for it,” Thor said. 

Steve watched Thor go; it was hard to watch him in pain, but at least for now it was over.


	18. Muffled Scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At first King Thor seems to be doing all right, but then the nightmares start

When Valkyrie arrived on Earth with the remnants of Asgard in tow she was at first much too busy to notice that something was terribly wrong with Thor. Of course she knew the King was upset and felt like he had failed Asgard and his brother and that he couldn’t make it up. 

Valkyrie knew the feeling very well, but at first there was just so much to do. They had found a place on Earth in a country called Norway where they once worshiped Asgardians as gods and were welcome to the small band of refuges and help them out. 

Valkyrie had never been to Earth before and was finding it as worthy of protection that Thor thought it was. 

For quite some time Thor and Valkyrie were on opposite schedules; while one of them was sleeping the other was wakeful and working. But after a few months they were on the same schedule and as Thor was having his house built he was currently in the same house as Valkyrie. The first night was quiet, the second was not. 

Valkyrie woke with a start looking around the room for whatever danger had woken her up. There was nothing and she thought it might have been a dream. 

Then she heard it; a muffled screaming sort of sound. She got up and followed it to Thor’s room. He was the one having nightmares. 

“Thor, Thor wake up!” Valkyrie flipped on the light and saw Thor curled up in bed face drawn in a frown as he let out another muffled scream. 

“Thor!” 

Thor sat up with a scream and jumped up from his bed looking around. 

“It’s alright Thor, you were dreaming. A nightmare.” Thor collapsed back on the bed with a groan. Valkyrie hesitated a moment then approached and sat on the edge of the bed. 

“Sorry,” Thor muttered. 

“It’s alright Thor. Want me to stay? Talk about it?” she offered. She had never been one to talk of her own trauma and had until recently preferred to drown it out with drink but there was a large part of her that didn’t want to see Thor go down that path. 

“I saw him die again. Loki. I heard...I can’t get the sound out of my head.” 

“I’m so sorry Thor,” Valkyrie said. 

Thor took in a shaky breath, “Do you think Valhalla is real?”

“It’s possible. You told me you saw visions of your father.” 

“I have. I don’t know if they were real. And I don’t know what would have happened to Loki’s soul. He was not Asgardian by birth. I wish I knew that he was alright, at least at peace.” 

“Your brother died bravely protecting his brother and King. If that doesn't buy a soul peace I don’t know what would,” Valkyrie said. 

“I hope so. I miss him.” 

They sat in silence for a while before Thor said he was going to sleep again. From what Valkyrie could tell he didn’t have anymore nightmares that night. 

But the nightmares were becoming commonplace; almost every night and sometimes several times in one night she would wake to the sound of Thor’s muffled screams. She tried to do what she could to help him, but couldn’t help but notice the nights that Thor did sleep through the nights were the ones where he had passed out drunk.

She knew what that was like and wished she could keep Thor from that fate. Then Thor’s house was ready and he moved away and Valkyrie saw him less and less though she knew very well what was going on with him. 

Valkyrie did what she could, but she knew from personal experience that Thor was going to have to hit a breaking point to draw himself out of his depression. She hoped it didn’t take long.


	19. Asphxyiation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley finds himself mixed up in World War One

Crowley tended to try to stay away from wars. It didn’t always work, in fact there were quite a few times it didn’t work but he still tried nonetheless. Wars had a habit of getting more and more complicated with every new human invention. 

For the most part he liked human creativity; they were coming up with the most interesting motorized ways of transportation and they had begun to fly as well. But such was the human mind that they often turned their new inventions to war. 

War had been brewing for a long time in Europe, it seemed like everything was on edge ready to explode. Crowley hoped he wasn’t picked to start something. In the end the war kicked off as most did; with humans killing other humans. 

The Great War began and it seemed like every few days another country declared war on another and troops started marching. He was almost considering taking another nap until the whole thing was over and done with. 

The war had been going on for years now and Crowley wasn’t sure when it would ever stop. He also found himself quite tied up with the whole business. It had started with an order; to investigate the use of gaseous chemicals in war. Hell had seemed quite excited about this invention of war for whatever reason. Technically he hadn’t been ordered to stay but he found it hard to leave because of a certain persistent rumor. 

Aziraphale was somewhere in the whole mess as well. Healing, helping where he could, being an Angel. Crowley missed Aziraphale and hoped to run across him somewhere. It hadn’t happened yet but he still held out hope. There had been a few times where he had thought he felt the angel’s presence, but hadn’t been able to actually see him. 

At the moment he wasn’t even quite sure where he was, somewhere in France probably, maybe Belgium he wasn’t quite sure. He had fallen into a group of soldiers cobbled together from French and British Empire troops and in particular was drawn toward a group of interesting young men.There was one young man, barely eighteen, named Steve that Crowley quite liked. He’d come around a bend of a trench just in time to see Steve tricking his friend into walking under a bucket of water. 

Steve laughed as his friend punched him on the shoulder. Crowley smiled. He loved mischief, he actually liked seeing humans in the pits of misery laughing and playing. Humans could be so very resilient. 

Crowley decided to stay with the group of young men.

“You should visit Canada, you really should,” Steve told Crowley. Crowley had been in Canada before, long before it was Canada but it had been a long time. 

“I will, if I can. Sounds lovely.” 

Steve talked about how much he missed home and how much he was looking forward to going back. It was not something Crowley thought wise; there were thousands of young men who had thought and hoped the same things and had not left the battlefield alive. And that was just in this particular war.

“You hear that?” one of the other lads asked. There was a look of slowly dawning horror on the boys faces before the call reached them.

“Gas!”

They all scrambled and fumbled with their gas masks. Crowley put his on as well; he didn’t want to have to fight to keep his corporation safe and didn’t want anyone to notice that he was somehow not dying. 

Crowley looked over at Steve who was still trying to get his mask on as a cloud of yellowish gas spilled around the corner of their trench. Crowley could see the mask was broken and Steve held it to his face even though it would not protect him. 

Crowley ripped his own functioning mask off and before the young man could protest put it on Steve’s face just as the gas hit them. Crowley held the broken one up to his face. All he had to do was keep from breathing and he thought he would be alright. 

There were cries from across no mans land and the shelling began. The gas was lingering in the trench and Crowley urged the boys to follow him. If they could get around the next bend they might be able to hop from their gas filled trench back into one that was at least a little safer. 

Crowley was the last in the trench; he made sure the boys made it to safety before lifting himself out of the gas. A shell landed nearby exploding and sending Crowley back into the trench. He coughed and sputtered and realized far too late what he had done. 

Crowley was consumed by pain. Everything was burning. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t breathe. Crowley felt as if his chest had been crushed, what little air he could get hurt. He was coughing so violently he could taste blood. 

Still he managed to pull himself from the trench and fell into the other desperately trying to concentrate on healing. 

He could hear the boys around him, yelling for help or a medic. Crowley felt like he was burning from the inside out, as if he had swallowed Holy Water. Something about the gas was making it hard to fight and he could not heal, and it hurt. 

There was no coming back from this, he wasn’t going to be able to heal himself and it would be far less painful to discorporate. 

Steve and the others were trying to help him; picking him up to try to get him to medics since none were around and Crowley couldn’t walk. He was coughing and choking and couldn’t get any air. He vomited and almost choked on it. His chest was starting to spasm in the attempt to get fresh air in. 

Crowley was aware that they had stopped moving and he was laying on the ground. He felt a soft hand grasp his; probably a medic. There was something else though; but Crowley was too far gone to figure out what it was. After a particularly painful spasmodic gasp for air Crowley felt separation beginning and he gave in and discorporated. 

Back in hell Crowley waxed poetic about the gas to Lord Beelzebub telling the Prince of Hell that he had gotten gassed on purpose to be able to describe it correctly. Beelzebub looked more bored than anything else and sent him back up as soon as possible. 

Crowley made an effort to stay away from the rest of the war.


	20. Trembling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to yesterday's chapter; what was Aziraphale up to in World War One?

Aziraphale was not fond of war, even when there was a supposed good reason for there to be war. It was hard to watch all the needless suffering and pain it caused even if the outcome was necessary. 

When the Great War started Aziraphale had a sinking feeling that this one was going to be bad and last much longer than what everyone else was saying. It made him sad to see the eager young men marching off to war knowing that so many of them wouldn’t come back. And that some would come back irreparably damaged and that he, even though he was an angel, couldn’t save them all. 

But he did what he could. He joined a group of civilian medics headed for mainland Europe and would stay there healing where he could for as long as he could. 

It was horrible.

No matter how many times he’d seen the aftermath of war it was always horrible but in different ways as humanity made new ways of killing each other. 

Soldiers coming in poisoned by gas was one of the worst. Men gasping and retching and suffocating, often times blinded by the poison. There wasn’t much they could do with the bad cases brought it. 

Aziraphale could only offer comfort and take some of the pain away. And they were so young, just boys who had been so excited and were now suffering and seeing gruesome deaths. Aziraphale wished he had someone to talk to. 

It was an odd thing to think about but he missed Crowley. He had thought that maybe Crowley had something to do with the war, but it was unlikely. This wasn’t Crowley’s usual brand of mischief. 

Aziraphale vowed to stay with the medics and help where he could for as long as he could; be it wasn’t easy.

Aziraphale was on the edge of medicas camp, trembling with exhaustion and sadness at so much pain and taking a moment before this days battle wounded were brought in when he saw three young boys carrying a man. Azirphale got up to help, though even from that distance he could tell the man was not long for the world. 

Every at a distance he could see the man’s struggle for air, the pale skin, the limp form of a man near death.It was only when they had laid the man down that Aziraphale recognized him. Crowley. 

“Can...can you help him?” One of the boys asked. 

“He saved me” another added, “My mask was broken. He...he led us out...” 

“Oh Crowley,” Aziraphale said. 

“You know him?”

“I do,” Aziraphale said. 

Crowley was too far gone to save. He was mere moments away from discorporating and there was nothing Aziraphale could do to stop it and not much he could do to comfort Crowley. Aziraphale took his hand anyway.

Crowley’s eyes were swollen shut and even if he could open them he’d probably been blinded. He jerked violently with every attempt to breathe. Not long after he made a choking sound and grew still. Aziraphale could feel Crowley’s true form flee, bound for hell until he was sent up again. 

“Rest in peace dear boy,” Aziraphale said, mostly for the benefit of the boys that had brought him in. 

“He’s gone,” one said. 

“Yes,” Aziraphale said.

“I...I tried. I’m sorry.” 

“You did what you could my brave young man,” Aziraphale said, “Come. Let’s check you all over.” 

The boys followed Aziraphale in a daze; the sounds of renewed battle in the background. They seemed like nice young men and before they parted ways Aziraphale made sure to bless them. Crowley had suffered to save them, now Aziraphale would make sure that it hadn’t been in vain. 

At the end of the day Aziraphale got a cup of tea and went to the edge of the camp and sat trembling and crying for a long time. 

He desperately missed Crowley, and he hated this damned war. But he couldn’t just sit and feel sorry about it all. He had to do what he could to help. He was an angel after all.


	21. Laced Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki really doesn't want to stay and party with Thor, but at least the wine should be good.

Loki rolled his eyes as Thor stood up to give a speech. They had just gotten back from a successful campaign on Vanaheim and were celebrating. Thor had called Sif, the Warriors Three, and Loki for a private celebration. There was certainly going to be a bigger feast once Thor got around to telling stories of his exploits. It had happened more than a dozen times now it seemed. 

What would happen would be Thor and the Warriors Three would tell the story over and over again until it seemed far more important and grand than it really had been. And somehow Loki was always made the butt of a joke. Or ignored. 

Loki had thought about skipping the meal, but they had been gifted a rare wine that Loki really wanted to try. He could always slip out of the room once the whole thing got started. 

Thor was in a good mood as he came and poured wine out for all his friends. Loki couldn’t help it and took a drink of the wine.

“Loki, wait, I have a toast to make,” Thor said. Loki looked at him and took another sip before waiting for Thor to speak. 

Thor lifted his glass and spoke about their adventure and how lucky he was to have such good friends. It sounded like he’d already been drinking. 

Loki coughed, clearing his throat. He licked his lips. Loki frowned. His tongue felt funny, his entire mouth felt strange. Numb and tingling at the same time. And his chest felt tight. Something was wrong. 

The wine.

Or the glass. But it had to be the wine. Laced with poison. Loki looked up and realized Thor had finished talking and was about to drink. A jolt of fear ran down Loki’s spine; he couldn’t let anyone else drink. He called on his magic and broke the glasses before anyone was able to drink the poisoned wine.

“Loki! What the hell…” Thor growled at him then stopped and frowned, “Loki? Loki what’s wrong.” 

Loki’s tongue felt heavy and as Thor knelt next to his chair he struggled to speak. His chest was getting tighter and his heart was pounding.

“Poison,” he finally managed to slur out. 

“Fandral, go get help. No one touch the wine!” Thor called out. Loki slumped down in his chair. He couldn’t feel his mouth, it was taking too much effort to breathe like mjolnir was on his chest. And his heart wasn’t beating right.

“Loki. Loki look at me.” 

“Can’t breathe…” 

“I know, just do your best help is on the way,” Thor took his hand and Loki squeezed it tight. Things started to blur there was nothing to focus on besides trying to get air, try to stay calm and hope his heart kept beating. 

Then he was being carried to the healing hall. Everything was going numb. He couldn’t get enough air his chest was on fire with the need for it. His heart was struggling, galloping and skipping beats. 

Loki was scared. He was succumbing to the poison. At least he had done something good; saved Thor and the others. Everything was spinning around him and the world seemed very far away. 

*

Thor watched his brother struggle to breathe and hoped that help would come in time. Whatever the poison was it was acting fast. Loki was pale, covered in sweat. Thor could feel his racing pulse as he held Loki’s hand. 

Thor kept hold of Loki’s hand as the healers put him on the stretcher and raced toward the healing hall. Loki started to lose consciousness just as the healers insisted Thor back away.

“I love you Loki, you can beat this,” Thor told him as he stepped away. Frigga arrived shortly after and Thor recounted what had happened. The reality of the situation was starting to hit him; Loki had been poisoned and was quite possibly dying. And he had saved them all from the same fate. 

Thor hated waiting. 

An hour passed before Eir appeared looking grim and tired. Thor felt his heart hammering in his throat.

“Prince Loki is still alive, but he is not yet safe.” 

Thor gave a little sigh of relief, Loki was alive at least and still fighting to stay that way. All was not lost yet. 

“What can you tell us Eir?” Frigga asked. 

“We’re not sure what the poison was only what it’s doing. At the moment Loki cannot breathe on his own but we are managing that for him. The poison is also affecting his heart; we’re trying to keep his heart beating in rhythm but it’s touch and go. Even with our abilities his heart could give out.” 

“What are his chances?” Frigga asked, voice shaking a little. 

“I hesitate to say, but I think it would be good for someone to be with him,” Eir said.

Thor couldn’t believe any of what he was hearing. Loki was fine just a little while ago and now he was fighting for his life. And Eir didn’t sound very hopeful. Frigga called a guard over ordering him to inform Odin what was going on and then she and Thor went in. 

Thor vowed then not to leave Loki’s side; he would stay with his brother until Loki passed or started to recover. 

“Is...is he in pain?” Thor asked as he saw Loki’s still form on the bed. 

“No my Prince.” 

Thor sat next to Loki and grabbed his hand, “I’m here brother, I will not leave you.” Thor tried to focus on Loki and not the machines and monitors keeping him alive. It was hard though watching the lines signalling Loki’s struggling heart. 

Two hours into the ordeal Loki’s heart stopped. 

It took ten minutes of shocking and massaging to get it started again. Frigga made the decision that should Loki’s heart stop again they would let him go. Thor agreed even though it hurt like nothing else he’d ever felt; he didn’t want Loki to suffer. 

Odin arrived shortly after and agreed with Frigga on her decision. The three sat in silence; watching. Waiting.

An alarm on the monitor beeped and Thor recognized the pattern of missed beats that Loki’s heart had done just before it had stopped the last time. Thor swallowed down his tears and fear and stood. He gripped Loki’s hand and leaned forward to kiss him.

“I love you Loki. I love you so much brother.” Thor wanted, no, needed to be as close to Loki as possible if these were indeed his last moments. Thor hoped that somehow Loki knew that they were there that he wasn’t alone and that they loved him. 

Frigga kept her hand to Loki’s cheek and Odin held Loki’s other hand. Thor didn’t know how long they stood there but somehow Loki’s heart kept beating and seemed to be beating stronger. 

For a long time no one moved; or said anything fearing that hoping out loud would break whatever miracle was happening. 

Loki pulled through. Somehow Loki started to recover. It was slow but his heart started to recover and beat in a regular rhythm. A day later he’d recovered enough to breathe on his own. Thor stayed with him as much as he could; only leaving for a few minutes at a time and only when Odin or Frigga was there too. 

Three days after being poisoned Loki woke up. Thor, Frigga, and Odin were all there. They all cried. Thor was so very thankful that Loki had made it through. He couldn’t even imagine what it would be like without his brother at his side.


	22. Hallucination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki tries to get back at Thor with a spell, it backfires.

Loki was mad at Thor. No not mad, furious. The giant oaf somehow made Odin believe that Thor had acted alone in saving the Vanaheim village from raiders. That he alone was to be lauded for the success and not only that but that Loki had acted cowardly. 

It hurt.

It hurt more that Odin seemed to believe it without hearing Loki’s side of the story. Odin had simply looked at Loki with disappointment and dismissed him. Without even asking for details.

Perhaps Loki had been wrong to try to call Thor back from his rampage, but the others were getting surrounded and there were innocent people who needed help. Loki had turned back, that much was true, but it was to save a group of villagers. It was not cowardice. 

Loki paced back and forth in his room; hot tears slipping down his cheeks as he thought about what to do. He thought about not talking to Thor or spreading some rumor about him. But in all likelihood that would just leave everyone certain that Loki was the source of the rumor and that Thor was the victim. 

Loki wanted to hurt Thor. 

He came up with a plan; he was going to put a spell on his brother and make him hallucinate, make him watch Loki die over and over until he was a sobbing mess. There would be no way to trace it. 

Loki met with Thor and their friends for a drink. He cast the spell. But just as he sent it toward Thor Volstagg jumped up and managed to push Thor who pushed Loki into the spell. Loki gasped. 

“Sorry brother,” Thor said then frowned, “Is there something wrong Loki?”

“No. Not at all. Too much...too much drink. I’m going to go lie down,” he said leaving before anyone could stop him. Loki hadn’t looked to see if there was a reversal to the spell he was going to have to find one fast. By the time he got to his rooms his head was spinning and he felt like going to sleep. He knew that was bad; as soon as he was asleep he would start hallucinating. And the way he had phrased the spell ‘you will see you brother die’ meant he would be watching Thor die.

Loki’s vision was blurry as he scanned the book, he felt dizzy and couldn’t stand up straight. He was sleepy. He needed. Maybe just a little nap and he would figure out...whatever it was he needed to figure out. 

Loki made his way to bed and fell asleep. 

*

Thor stood before him smiling as he twirled Mjolnir. Loki smiled back. Just then a soldier burst out of the woods and grabbed Thor hurling him against a tree. Loki heard Thor’s back snap. 

“Thor! Thor no!” 

Thor was trembling and struggling for breath, far too pale. 

“Stay awake brother, I’ll…”

Thor stopped breathing eyes glazing over and staring at nothing.

*

Loki searched the wreckage desperately looking for Thor. He had to have survived there was no way a simple ship crash cold kill his brother. Nothing...nothing could kill Thor. 

“Thor!” 

Loki heard a groan and finally found Thor, lifting up the metal wreckage that was on top of him. There was a halo of blood around Thor’s head. 

“Thor?” 

“Lo...Loki.” 

Thor’s voice was weak, his pulse was weak, his breathing shallow and labored. 

“Love you,” Thor said. 

“No no no, you have to stay with me brother. Please.” 

Thor gave a weak smile. Loki held his hand and watched as Thor took his last breath.

*

Loki was sure that the battle was finally winding down. There was less noise of fighting and more noise of the fallen dying. It had been a long hard battle, but a quick glance around told Loki that the Asgardians had been victorious. At a heavy cost. 

Loki took down one of the last enemy soldiers and suddenly felt someone rushing up behind him. Loki spun. What he saw he couldn’t believe. Thor stood between him and the enemy, the enemy soldier fell away. 

But Thor was hurt. He’d been so concerned with keeping Loki safe that he’d taken a hit from the enemy soldier. Thor collapsed and Loki caught him looking at the blood on his brother’s chest. 

Thor had been stabbed in the heart. Loki was so shocked that before he could do anything Thor died. 

*

Loki turned in battle just in time to see Thor decapitated.

*

Thor tried as best he could to fight all the giant creatures before him. At first it looked like he was going to make it but then he was overwhelmed by them and torn to shreds. 

Loki was able to kill the creatures at last, spell finally formed but too late. Thor have been eviscerated, guts spilling out on the ground beside him. He was choking on blood. There was nothing Loki could do but stay with him until it was over.

*

Loki woke with a start letting out a scream of pain. He sat panting head spinning and tears running down his face. As he came back to himself he realized he was safe he was home in bed and it was morning and…

It all came back to him; all the dreams and visions of Thor dying. He remembered the spell he had cast. It had all just been dreams. None of it was real and Thor was fine. But it was going to take more than just thinking it to convince him.

Loki sought his brother out and found him eating breakfast with mother. Loki was so relieved he let out a sigh. 

“I something wrong Loki?” Frigga asked. 

“I...sorry I had a nightmare of Thor dying and...it’s silly I know.” 

Thor stopped eating and stood wrapping his arm around Loki and drawing him toward the table. 

“I’m here brother. No need to worry, come sit and have something to eat,” Thor said, “I’m sorry you had a nightmare. I love you brother.” 

Loki sighed, “I love you too Thor.” And it was true. No matter how much Thor annoyed him they were still brothers. He couldn’t stand the thought of losing Thor and he knew that Thor would feel the same. He was ashamed that he wanted to make Thor watch him die. It was a horrible thing to do to his brother.


	23. Bleeding Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In 2012 Loki is handed off to Hydra, and they have plans for him.

Loki had been abandoned. Thor had relented at last and had handed Loki over to Secretary Pierce saying that he would return for Loki. It was a lie. Loki had been imprisoned for well over a year deep down on something called the Raft. 

Thor wouldn’t come back for him. 

Thor lied. All the talk of wanting Loki to come home; of saying Loki was still his brother and that he loved him. Lies, lies, lies. What was worse was that Loki believed Thor for a few brief moments. 

Still maybe it was for the best; he didn’t think the mortals could really do much to hurt him and they hadn’t even been trying. He would escape sometime. 

The door to his chamber opened and two guards came in. They were carrying some sort of device; not Asgardian but some sort of human tech that looked like a coller of some sort. At the moment, Loki was restrained with Asgardian based magic blocking tech that kept him from doing much. He hoped, oh he hoped that the humans had something they thought would control him and maybe it would fail and he could be free. 

They clamped the collar on and pushed a few buttons. 

At first there was nothing and Loki thought about laughing in the guards faces or cursing them out. Then it hit him. It felt like someone reached into his chest and pulled on his very essence. 

“It works.” 

Loki heard the men speaking only catching a few words as he tried to stay conscious. It didn’t so much hurt as tingle but he knew if they didn’t turn the machine off it would siphon too much magic from him and he would die.

It was happening unnervingly fast. Then it all stopped. Loki panted for air and tried to focus on something on anything to keep himself awake. Somehow the guards managed to pull him to his feet and marched him down the hall. Loki still felt odd; like he’d drunk too much or he was still asleep and all of this was a dream. 

They led him to a room and strapped him to a table. Loki had some instinct to fight but not the energy to do it. There were machines all around him and all manner of instruments. Loki swallowed. They were going to experiment on him. Maybe torture him. It had been...he’d had...Thanos had...remade him and he’d made it through that. He could make it through this. 

But did he want to? Really?

Loki knew for sure that there was something major going on when Secretary Pierce arrived to watch. 

They pushed a couple of buttons on their new collar and Loki felt a little bit of a drain.

“Right, let’s see how much blood we can take.” 

Loki frowned and felt someone jab a needle into his arm in the crook of his elbow, and then the other one as well. What they thought they could do with his blood he didn’t know. Or they could just be finding out how much of it he could lose before he died. 

Time passed. Loki started to feel weak, his breathing was becoming labored and his heart was beating faster. He was bleeding out. Loki closed his eyes and tried to stay calm. It was uncomfortable but it didn’t hurt. It wouldn’t be bad to let go this way. 

Loki’s vision was swimming, his heart pounding hard in desperation. He wanted to let go.

Then for some reason it got easier to breathe and his heart was calming down. At first he thought he was hallucinating but things around him cleared up. They had taken blood from him, stored it to bring him to the brink of death, then pumped it back into him.

So they could do more, Loki realized. 

They turned on the collar next. Loki screamed. He didn’t know if they’d put something in his blood but this time it hurt, it felt as if someone had their hands around his heart and lungs and were squeezing both.

Loki couldn’t breathe. 

The pain waned a little turning into a tingling feeling. But he was still bleeding out, but in a different way. He was hemorrhaging magic. They were trying to take his magic and they didn’t know that it would kill him. 

Or maybe they did know. They wanted his magic and didn’t care if they killed him. Loki struggled to breathe through the nauseating dizzy spells. He thought again about letting go. For some reason he wanted Thor. For all the anger he had toward Thor Loki was scared and dying and he wanted Thor. And he would have liked to see mother again. 

Loki didn’t think he’d survive much longer and wasn’t even sure he’d survive if they turned the machines off. 

Loki passed out. 

To his surprise he woke up. He couldn’t tell how long it had been, but he was back in his cell lying on the floor. He felt weak, but didn’t think he was in danger of dying. He could feel his magic but it felt raw and used and as weak as he felt. 

He was left mostly alone save for the guard who would bring him food. A few days passed then the guards came in with the collar again. 

“Time to go,” once said. 

Loki wanted to protest, Loki felt like crying; he wasn’t sure he would survive having his magic bled again, not so soon. But there wasn’t anything he could do.


	24. Secret Injury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley gets hurt while doing a blessing; Aziraphale gets hurt doing a temptation. Both of them hide it from the other.

Crowley made his way to the small village cursing the summer rains and wishing he hadn’t accepted the job after all. But Aziraphale had been so excited about a supposed new book of prophecy who’s author was going to be in London and he had all but begged Crowley to accept Aziraphale’s assignment. Crowley pretended to protest more to tease Aziraphale than anything else and finally accepted. 

There was a child being born that was somehow important to the Great Plan, and Crowley needed to ensure that both mother and child lived; the mother was in for a difficult birth but her survival would ensure the child was raised as the Plan needed. 

Crowley had always liked children.

Crowley arrived a week or so before the child’s birth setting himself up as a traveling healer on a pilgrimage. He made sure that he told that to anyone who would listen and even did a few minor healings to prove his ability.

On the night of August tenth he was called to the outskirts of the village to aid the birth of the child. It was a long and hard labor but at the end of it all, the child was born healthy and whole. Without Crowley there the mother would have bled to death but he healed her and stayed with them through the night to make sure all was well. 

Crowley planned to leave in the morning and quietly slipped out of the house and was nearly out of town when he was stopped. 

“Good healer, will you come inside a moment to thank you for your help and give you a blessing.” 

Crowley thought about miracling himself away or coming up with some reason to not go into the church with the priest but he went anyway. It was highly unlikely the ground had been properly consecrated to the point it would hurt him. 

Crowley was wrong. Very wrong. 

His feet started to burn and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. The priest’s back was turned and Crowley ran out miracling himself away and hoping it didn’t mess things up too badly. Crowley had miracled himself back to London cursing at his burnt feet. He needed to give Aziraphale details to put in his report to heaven. 

Crowley told himself he wouldn’t stay long; he couldn’t risk Aziraphale learning about the injury. Aziraphale was always so anxious about the whole arrangement worried that Crowley would get hurt. And he had. If Aziraphale knew that the angel would call off the whole thing. 

“It went well then?”

“Yup, very easy. Beautiful little child,” Crowley said. 

“Thank you my dear, I’ve got a new book, signed and everything!” Aziraphale brought out the book and showed it to Crowley. Crowley shifted barely able to hide his wince as he put too much weight on one foot. 

“Are you alright?”

“Yes. Fine angel,” he said listening to Aziraphale go on about the book and what it said and how much wished he had a better place to put all his books. Crowley stayed with Aziraphale for several hours before Aziraphale had to leave to turn in his report. 

Crowley hobbled back to his place wincing as he took off shoes and socks and stared at his blistered burned feet. Aziraphale could never know about it. A little pain was well worth the angel’s company. Crowley had no idea what he would do without Aziraphale. The thought of losing the angel was the most painful thing, worse than his blistered feet. 

He hoped they would heal before the next time he saw Aziraphale. 

*

Aziraphale had begun to notice that most of the people he was having to tempt on Crowley’s behalf were well on their way to sinning anyway. Still it wasn’t always easy to be the final push to tipping someone’s soul into hell. But he did it. For Crowley. They had the arrangement after all and he had always held up his end of the bargain they made. 

He was leaving town after a successful tempting when he heard horses behind him. Aziraphale frowned. Maybe he hadn’t done as well as he thought. Aziraphale was beginning to think about just miracling himself back to where he was supposed to meet Crowley but he stood. 

Aziraphale realized too late that they were not interested in talking.

The arrow hit him in the shoulder and he had just enough presence of mind to teleport away before the next arrow hit him. 

Aziraphale crashed to the floor of his home with a cry of pain. He considered pulling the arrow out and letting his own healing take over but he didn’t think he could do it. He miracled it away but it still sent a lightning shock of pain down his arm and he cried out again. 

He put his hand to the bleeding wound and started to heal. Fast healing always hurt he could feel every knitting muscle, blood vessel, and patch of skin. It tingled and burned and was too intense to bear without gritting his teeth and crying out.

But it would heal over quickly and by the time he went to Crowley it would be only a memory. He wasn’t going to tell Crowley about the mishap. 

It was strange and a little concerning how much he would miss the demon if they broke off their arrangement. He didn’t want that to happen and he couldn’t let Crowley know he had been hurt. He wanted to keep the arrangement up. 

Oh how much trouble he would be in if Heaven ever found out, and worse if Hell found out they would absolutely destroy Crowley. Torture him first too probably and then wipe him from existance.

The danger was worth it though and so he would hide his little mishap. For Crowley.


	25. Humiliation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale is called to heaven for a meeting; it doesn't go well.

Aziraphale was nervous. He had been summoned to Heaven the note had been signed by Gabriel and had just announced a date and a time for him to be there. He’d just been in heaven two weeks ago handing in a report and going through some paperwork. Everything seemed fine. 

Aziraphale tried not to be nervous about the whole thing and failed. He had a bad feeling about it and hoped that it didn’t have anything to do with Crowley. Aziraphale hadn’t seen the demon in a few years but if the angels went back in their observations and happened upon him and Crowley things could get bad. 

He was met by Gabriel the instant he arrived in Heaven. 

“Aziraphale, good to see you, glad you made it on time we have a bit to cover,” Gabriel said leading him into a conference room. Michael, Sandalphon, and Uriel were all there waiting. Aziraphale greeted them and hoped that none of them could hear the tremble in his voice. 

“Do you know why you’re here Aziraphale?” Michael asked. 

“I’m afraid I don’t,” he said. 

“You’re a pathetic excuse of an angel do you know that?” Uriel said. 

“I…” 

“Silence Principality,” Sandalphon said and Aziraphale closed his mouth. 

“Aziraphale, look at yourself,” Gabriel looked him up and down like he was examining something disgusting. 

“You overindulge in gross matter,” Gabriel said, “And it shows. I’m only trying to help you Aziraphale. You need to be in the best possible shape when we go to war against Hell eventually.” 

“You can work on it Aziraphale but it needs to be worked on,” Michael said, “We know you love the creations of humanity, we know you love humanity but sometimes it is too much. We only want to help Aziraphale.” 

“We are meant to love humanity but there is a such thing as too much,” Urial said, “And you are too much.” 

Aziraphale felt himself trembling slightly at the onslaught. It was somewhat true what they were saying of course and he knew that but he hated being trapped in a situation where he had to listen to them with no way out. 

“Now you do turn in your reports on time and your miracle work is sufficient but you are too frivolous with them,” Michael said. 

“You are too soft Aziraphale. In every sense of the word,” Gabriel said. Aziraphale swallowed hard he could barely look at the angels. Sandalphon and Uriel looked like they wanted to smite him. Michael and Gabriel looked like they pitied him. Like he was some sort of pathetic thing. 

“You can speak now,” Sandalphon said. 

“I...I’m sorry. I will try to do better. I won’t disappoint you again,” Aziraphale said. 

“Good,” Gabriel smiled, “That’s what I like to hear. You can go now.” 

Aziraphale smiled and gave a short bow. He was crying even before he left the building. Tears streamed down his face the entire walk back to the bookshop. It was never easy to be on Gabriels bad side but he could understand if Aziraphale had made some mistake or missed paperwork or did something wrong that would interfere with the Great Plan. 

But being called out on what he looked like and taking pleasure in eating was humiliating. He didn’t...didn’t think it was wrong to eat. It helped him stay in character as a human and...and…

Aziraphale broke down in sobs. He thought about having a drink but that was what the angels disliked about him wasn’t it? Was he really a bad angel for eating and drinking? Did that somehow make him less kind? Ruin his miracles somehow?

He looked at the soft rolls of fat on his body, the stretch marks and the general softness of it all. It never bothered him before. It didn’t really bother him now but...and Sandalphon’s corporation wasn’t exactly thin was it?

There was a knock on the bookshop door and Aziraphale didn’t answer. Whoever it was would go away eventually. The knock came again.

“We’re closed!”

“Angel?”

Aziraphale sighed, it was Crowley. He thought about telling Crowley to go away but he didn’t really feel like being alone and so he unlocked the door. 

“Came by earlier and you weren’t here I…” Crowley frowned, “Angel what’s wrong?”

“I...had a meeting in Heaven. They…” he couldn’t help but let out a sob, “They chastised me for eating, for being soft.” 

“Well...I was going to ask if you wanted to go out to eat…” Crowley said with a tentative smile. It only made Aziraphale sob harder. Here he was sitting with a Demon, being friendly with a demon, thinking about eating with a demon. 

Crowley cursed under his breath and sat on the couch across from Aziraphale’s chair, “Angel don’t listen to them. You are fine how you are and eating doesn’t make you any less of an angel.” 

“And you would know what’s angelic would you?” Aziraphale snapped. The look of hurt on Crowley’s face hurt Aziraphale’s heart.

“I...I’m sorry Crowley. I’m not mad at you, don’t want to hurt you. I feel horrible.” 

The hurt look faded, “I know angel. They shouldn’t humiliate you like that; I don’t see how it’s a bad thing to eat. But you are right, I am a demon. But Aziraphale know this. I like you the way you are.”

Aziraphale sighed, “Thank you my dear. I don’t feel up to going out to eat at the moment but would you stay and have a drink with me?”

“Course angel,” Crowley said with a smile and Aziraphale smiled back.


	26. Abandoned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to Chapter 23. Loki is still imprisoned on the raft but that's about to change.

Loki woke to a loud crashing sound. For a few seconds he thought he might be going crazy, maybe he hadn't heard anything at all. He was tired and weak, he’d just gone through another magic bleeding sesion. The humans had figured out how to do it without killing him, using him like some sort of battery. He was just about to drift back to sleep when there was another loud banging sound and it felt like the whole room moved; and then there were alarms going off. 

Loki knew that the Raft, the prison he was being kept in, was in the ocean somewhere and he wondered if it was a massive storm of some sort. Or if the place was being attacked. He doubted he was the reason for any of the events but he hoped it might give him a chance to escape. So he forced himself to stay awake and he waited. 

The next lurch sent him sprawling on the ground and the room began to shake violently. The alarms continued to sound and Loki thought he might smell smoke. He got up to go to the wall and try to hear anything when the room lurched again, throwing Loki across the room with enough force to knock him out. 

When he came to, a few minutes later an nour he didn’t know, he was trapped. He blinked, he didn’t think he’d been out that long and he didn’t understand what had happened. Loki tried to make sense of what he was seeing. 

The roof had collapsed; he could see up several stories of twisted metal and sparking wires. He tried to move and gasped. He was laying on the floor of his room in about four inches of water he could sit up a little; but he was trapped under the wreckage of the roof. 

And...there was fire. 

Loki swallowed hard closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Don’t panic, don’t panic. He could move his legs; that was good, but he couldn’t get the wreckage off his legs and lower body. He was so weak from being drained and he was still wearing the blasted magic blocking collar around his neck. 

He sank back down water rushing into his ears. The water was getting deeper. Slowly yes but if he couldn’t get out he would drown. 

Someone had to know he was still there; they wouldn’t give him up would they? He was too powerful a prisoner. But Loki didn’t really believe that. 

He had been abandoned. Everyone had run from whatever had happened and left him behind to die. No one was looking for him and he would not survive. Loki took a shaky breath. There was more smoke in the room and the air was thick with the smell of fuel of some sort.

There was fuel in the wreckage and the water and there was fire from the next room creeping steadily toward him. Loki sat up as much as he could to look at the fire before sinking back into the water. 

The fire would burn his legs first, creep up slowly and set the water on fire. His legs would start burning before the smoke killed him. He was laying slightly inclined so the water would cover his head first and drown him, if it came in fast enough. It was coming in quicker now or so he thought. 

Burn or drown. 

Drown or burn.

Loki didn’t want to die. He had been hoping for escape for..years? How much time had passed? He had been dreaming of escape even through the torture of having his magic drained. He had in desperation begun to hope that Thor would come rescue him. That someone would. 

“They’ve all abandoned you Loki,” he thought bitterly. 

Burn or drown. 

He could feel the heat from the flames. The water was deep enough to cover his head, he wondered if he could kill himself, dip down and inhale the water. Would his body fight it, fight for air it knew was there. There was fuel in the water, would it burn his lungs worse than the water? He knew it would hurt no matter what. It was unlikely to be over quickly. 

Loki’s feet felt too hot and he didn’t want to look to see how close the flames were. The smoke was mostly going up through the wreckage. How long would it take to go into shock from the burns?

Burn or drown. 

“Please,” he thought, “Please I know I’m going to die. Help me do so quickly.” It was going to hurt, no matter what it was going to hurt. It was already hurting. The first flames were starting to lick his shoes. The would catch soon. Loki dipped his head beneath the water and tried to inhale. 

He emerged from the water with a scream of frustration. Loki let out a sob. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t drown himself. He was going to have to wait until it naturally covered his head and that wouldn’t happen before the fire got to him. 

Loki was going to burn. He started to try to brace himself for the pain. 

A moment later he heard something. He lifted his head, sure that he was hallucinating but he heard it again. He called out. He didn’t know who it was and he didn’t care. They would either rescue him or if they knew who he was the might kill him. Either was preferable to burning. 

“Loki!”

“I’m here!” Loki yelled it took him a few moments to realize whoever it was knew his name. 

Two people entered the room; Thor and Captain America. Loki blinked he couldn’t believe what he was seeing and for a brief and terrifying moment he thought he might be hallucinating. 

Then Thor wrapped his arms around Loki’s shoulders.

“Loki are you hurt?”

“Not...not bad, can’t get out,” Loki managed. Between them Thor and the Captain managed to get the wreckage lifted and moved enough to get him out. Thor helped Loki to his feet and Loki took as small step before he realized something was wrong with his left ankle.

“I’ve got you brother,” Thor said, “Lean on me.” 

Loki felt like he was in a haze; this was real he was being rescued and hadn't been abandoned. Thor was there. With Thor’s help he made it out of the wreckage of the Raft and into a Quinjet. 

Loki was shivering in shock and pain and Thor wrapped a blanket around him and then pulled Loki to his chest. In the back of Loki’s mind he thought he should be angry at Thor, but it was so good to see him and be out that all he could do was cry. 

“I’m here brother. I’m so sorry Loki. I didn’t...I’m sorry,” Thor said. 

“I thought...thought you’d abandoned me,” Loki said between heavy sobs. 

“No, no brother. I thought you’d be safe until, I thought father...I’m sorry Loki. Oh I’m so sorry brother. I’m not going to let you go.” 

Loki continued to cry in his brother’s arms. He had no idea what would happen next, he didn’t understand what had happened at all really. But he was alive; he would live and Thor was there and maybe things would be alright.


	27. Ransom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple of low level demons kidnap Crowley, Aziraphale comes to the rescue.

There was nothing for Crowley to do but wait. And hope. Hope that Aziraphale got the message, and hope that the angel believed it and didn’t think Crowley was trying to make some sort of joke of the whole thing. 

No, there was no joke; he’d been kidnapped by a group of low level demons who were now holding him for ransom in some dirty in need of demolition building somewhere in London. They had him tied up and miracled to stay still so he couldn’t get himself out. 

They were threatening to kill him if Aziraphale didn’t show. The demons wanted him for sure but they wanted Aziraphale more. They had no idea what they were inviting into their midst and if there had been less danger Crowley would have looked forward to what was going to happen. 

That and the fact that the demons were bored waiting and decided to torture him. 

They whipped him with chains covered in broken glass, breaking through the skin of his human form and even cracking ribs. It was nothing he couldn’t handle. It hurt, but he could handle it and he would be out soon. 

Hopefully.

The whipped cracked through the air and Crowley felt a vicious sting in his back wrapping around to his side. He gave a low groan. 

“That stings a bit,” he said. 

“Silence, or we’ll get bored and just kill you,” one of the demons said, “We get bored waiting we might do it anyway.” 

“Please come save me Aziraphale,” Crowley thought. He’d rescued the angel countless times over the years and he hoped Aziraphale could return the favor. 

The whip hit Crowley again, wrapping around his chest and tearing as the demon pulled it back. Crowley groaned and panted through the pain shutting his eyes tight and letting out a quiet sob. 

“I would stop that if I were you.” 

Crowley’s eyes flashed open and he smiled, “Aziraphale.” He glanced back at the three demons holding him and saw that they looked nervous. They should be, in Crowley’s opinion. Aziraphale snapped and the bounds holding Crowley fell away.

“You can’t have him Angel, not until we…” 

The demon who had dared to speak was also the one who was whipping Crowley and Aziraphale gave him one quick look before starting to glow. The demon was gone in a flash of angelic power. Aziraphale had barely lifted a finger and didn’t look any worse for the wear. In fact he looked more powerful and just as angry. 

“I would run now, if I were you,” Aziraphale said. The other two demons back off looked at each other then teleported away. Aziraphale let out a heavy sigh. 

“Well done angel,” Crowley said.

“Oh my dear, are you alright?”

“No. Could use some help, but I’ll be fine.” 

Aziraphale helped him to his feet and in a flash they were back at the bookshop. Aziraphale helped Crowley to the couch then went about gathering supplies to help clean and bandage the wounds. 

“Just rest dear, I’ll get this all sorted,” Aziraphale said. 

“Thank you angel,” Crowley said. Now that he wasn’t in immediate danger he noticed the pain. Stinging pain from the glass cuts, aching from the bruising of the chains, lashes of pain as he breathed with cracked ribs. He groaned. 

Aziraphale came back pressing a drink into Crowley’s hand. Crowley downed half of the whisky before Aziraphale began. 

“I’ll be careful, but this will hurt. I’m sorry love.” 

Crowley tried to keep his jerks and gasps to a minimum, Aziraphale was helping him and he didn’t want the angel to feel too bad about it. But it hurt and Crowley couldn’t help it. Aziraphale stitched and cleaned and bandaged and Crowley was so thankful for the angel so full of love for the being helping him that his heart ached with it. 

Crowley felt raw and achy but still a little better when Aziraphale was done. The angel helped him find a comfortable position on the couch, no small feat given the amount of wounds. 

“You are so kind to me angel. I love you.” 

“I wish I could have stopped them sooner my love.” 

“You did well. You were a badass.” 

“I take it that’s a good thing?”

“Yes angel, a very good thing,” Crowley smiled.


	28. Beaten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley forgets to miracle himself sober before starting a fight.

Crowley sat in the corner of the bar and drank watching the comings and goings of the people. He was annoyed and a little bored. He’d gotten a commendation for the Spanish Inquisition and he was shocked at what the humans had thought up themselves. 

Drinking was in order and lots of it, Crowley thought. 

By the time the night was over he was unsure if he could make it home without stumbling into something. He could sober up, he knew that, but he didn’t want to. He just needed to somehow get home so he could pass out somewhere safe. 

Crowley was nearly there when he heard a commotion. Two men were towering over two street urchins, a boy and a girl and trying to take the girl away.

“Hey!” Crowley called out. 

The two men looked at him and told him to bugger off. Crowley came forward.

“Leave em alone.” 

“What you want in on this too?”

“Leave alone.” 

“Go away you drunken fool.” 

“No,” Crowley said. The men set on him. Crowley really wished he had sobered up a little but he couldn’t concentrate on it with the men punching and kicking him to the ground. He saw the children running away though. That was good. 

One of the men’s boots made contact with Crowley’s ribs. He felt a lighting sharp pain as two of them snapped. It was then he realized he was in danger of being discorporated. But the men seemed to think better of murdering him and left him alone. 

Crowley sobered up a little until he was struck with the pain from his ribs. He couldn’t breathe well. He had to get home. But home was far away. Aziraphale was closer. He was still drunk enough to not really think about showing up on the angel’s doorstep in the middle of the night.

Aziraphale looked annoyed at first but then frowned and ushered Crowley in. 

“What mischief have you gotten yourself into now,” he said. 

“Drunk, got beaten up,” Crowley said. 

“Oh Crowley, let’s get you put back together then you can sleep it off.” 

Crowley could tell Aziraphale that he did it to protect children but that was not something a demon should admit, especially not to an angel. Aziraphale was gentle with him though and helped wrap his ribs and get him settled in for the night. 

Crowley left early in the morning before Aziraphale woke up.


	29. Numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley Falls and wonders how long the numbness will last.

Crowley knew he ought to be in pain. Most of the other Fallen were still in pain. Falling had hurt. Pain was a new thing. Crowley usually liked new things; creating them at the will of the Almighty had been joyous. 

He had been drawn to Lucifer out of curiosity; the Angel had been drawing quite a crowd to him and Crowley couldn’t help but be drawn in by the light. He hadn’t...he hadn’t meant to disobey the Almighty, hadn’t meant to disappoint Them. He had been curious he had asked questions, lots of questions. But he could not help it.

The Fall was sudden. The rumors of something happening had only reached Crowley’s ears when he had suddenly found himself plumitting. He had tried to fly but found his wings wouldn’t work right. 

At first he was too scared to hurt, but then as he hit the pool of sulphur it had hit him. Burning hot pain. Once he had gotten out on to solid ground the pain remained. Coming and going in waves that made him shake and made him sick. 

There were other suffering Fallen all around him. 

It was chaos at first but Lucifer eventually got them under some sort of control. Everyone still complained of the pain. Crowley didn’t feel anything anymore. He was completely numb. He didn’t know what it meant and he kept it to himself. When asked or when someone else would complain of pain he would say he had it too. 

He wasn’t sure if this was some sort of gift or curse. Or who it was given by. 

Crowley was given his first assignment; the Almighty had put the humans in Eden and Crowley was to go up and make trouble, tempt one of them to eat something the Lord had forbidden. He didn’t really feel anything about the mission he wasn’t even sure if he was curious about it, but he slithered up anyway.

He was to stay in snake form for his safety; the Guardian of the Eastern Gate was an angel to be reckoned with was the rumor. But as Crowley approached the woman Eve the angel was nowhere to be seen. 

Crowley hid after he had done the deed. Earth was an interesting plane of existence and he didn’t really want to go back to hell. He was...he was starting to feel something again. He lurked in the Garden and watched until Adam and Eve got expelled for what he had tempted them to do. 

He was due to report back to hell; but he was not ready to go yet. Crowley looked up on the wall of Eden; the Angel was standing watching the humans go. Crowley was curious about the angel. It had been so long since he’d talked to anyone interesting, and the thought of the potential danger thrilled him a little.

Crowley was feeling. Mostly curious. But if he thought about it a little hopeful too. So he decided to go investigate the Angel of the eastern gate.


	30. Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little scene for Captain Marvel after Talos gets shot.

Fury let out a little sigh of relief as they touched down on solid ground. Back on Earth. He unbuckled himself and went back to the hold. He didn’t have any idea of how bad Talos was hurt or how likely it was that he would recover. He’d seen a Skrull die in an accident he himself had survived so he knew Skrulls could be killed. 

Talos’ face was drawn in pain, his breathing a little quick, but he was sitting up and it didn’t look like he was losing much blood, or whatever it was that Skrulls had. 

“How’s it going?” 

“Not bad. I don’t think I’m in grave danger of dying but I could use some help.” 

“We’ll do what we can,” Fury said. He would have to be careful about the whole thing; he still needed to keep the Skrulls secret but he needed to bring in scientists and medics to help Talos.

“I don’t suppose any of your friends here are doctors? Healers of any type?” Fury asked. Talos shook his head. Fury nodded. With Carol and help from Shield they got the skrulls to safety to get them all checked over and help Talos. The plan was to send the refugees back to the ship save Talos and his family. They would stay until Talos was healed. 

Fury stayed with Talos while he was being treated. He trusted the doctors but felt maybe Talos would feel a little better with a human he knew in the room. Talos looked nervous. 

“Don’t worry we’re not as backwards and stupid as you might think,” Fury said. 

“Hmm, that’s debatable,” Talos said. 

In the end it was an easy fix, mostly stitching and wrapping in bandages. While there had been no healers on the ship they did have some medications, antibiotics in particular for Talos to take. 

Talos was going to have to take it easy for a while; be careful not to move his arm too much and tear the stitching but it looked like he was going to be fine. Fury was relieved.

“Thanks for staying with me,” Talos said.

“What are friends for?” Fury said. 

Talos smiled, “I think this place is beginning to grow on me. Might have to come back sometime.” 

“Just warn me next time alright? Maybe not tie up my boss?”

“Can’t make any promises,” Talos smiled. Fury didn’t know whether to be happy about that or cautious but he smiled nonetheless.


	31. Embrace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki, still imprisoned in Asgard from his crimes on earth, is called to face a revision in his sentence.

The chains clicking and shifting was the only noise in the room as Loki approached the throne. The entire court was gathered and Thor and Frigga stood by Odin’s side by the throne. 

Loki was starting to feel nervous. He didn’t look at anyone to the side, and couldn’t bear to look at Frigga or Thor. Or Odin. He looked at the throne behind them. 

It had been a year to the day since Thor brought him back from Earth, from his failed attempt to claim the realm for his own. Odin had thrown him in the prison to rot. Or so he thought. Something must have changed though Loki didn’t know what it could be. 

He risked a glance at Frigga. He could see anger behind the Queen’s calm visage and he thought something was wrong. There would be no need for this if there were no change in his sentence. Why bring him out only to shove him away more publicly? If he were to be set free or forgiven his mother wouldn’t be looking like she were seconds from beheading Odin in a fit of rage. 

Loki was going to die. 

This was an execution. Loki’s relatively lax sentence must have caused too many problems for Odin. So he needed to get rid of him. Loki wondered if he would get a last request. As he was forced to kneel before the throne he knew what the request would be. He would request that Frigga be removed. She didn’t need to see this. 

“Loki you have been called before the throne today to discuss your crimes and sentence. I have had time to think on this more and have come to the conclusion that something else must be done. I refuse to be the one to choose death, but there is another way.” 

From behind Odin one of the Einherjar emerged carrying an ancient looking bow carved with runes. There was magic in it, that much Loki could tell. 

“This is the Bow of the Heart, legend has it those struck through the heart and found worthy will not die. I will let the Norns decide your fate.” 

Loki burned with anger. How dare Odin pretend to not be responsible for Loki’s death. How dare he. Loki knew the story of the Bow and knew that no one had ever survived being struck by it’s arrows. 

Odin had sentenced him to death but didn’t even have the courage to take responsibility for it. 

“Prepare the prisoner,” Odin said. 

They pulled Loki up pulling back on his chains. Loki fought for a moment. 

“I don’t want Mother to see this!” he cried out. For a moment everything stood still and Loki looked at Frigga. She was near to tears already and Loki tried his best to plead with her with his eyes. She gave a brief nod and turned to leave. 

Loki watched her go then allowed himself to be dragged backwards. The Einherjar pulled the chains tight, Loki’s arms outstretched.

“May I die unchained?” he asked. Odin looked at him and nodded. The guards removed the chains and Loki stood. He tried to stand as tall as possible, as still as possible. But he was shaking; he could feel the tremors running through his body as the executioner took his place. 

“I’m going to die,” Loki thought. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath. He could be brave, he could try not to cry out and pain or cry or beg. He could die bravely. 

The executioner nocked the arrow, and as he drew Loki closed his eyes. He heard the sound of the bow firing an instant later pain exploded in his chest. Loki’s eyes flashed open as his hand went to his chest. He let out a shocked grunt slipping to his knees. 

The arrow was twitching in his hand; at least the executioner had aimed well. Loki struggled for short gasps of air as everything started to spin around him. He looked at Odin and Thor. He was sorry. He should have said that. Thor was crying.

Loki collapsed onto his side. He looked away from Thor; he could barely see. Everything was swirling and starting to still at the same time. The pain was going, the arrow was stilling with Loki’s heart. Loki gasped, failed to do so again, and everything went black. 

*

Thor didn’t want to be there; didn’t agree with what Odin was doing. But he didn’t want to abandon Loki. Even after all the pain his brother had caused him Thor couldn’t give him up. Couldn’t leave him to Odin’s mercy alone. 

Thor didn’t know how the Bow worked or if anyone had ever survived it. He didn’t know if Loki would. He wished that he could have talked with Loki, just in case. 

He didn’t want to watch Loki die. But here he was. 

The arrow hit Loki, straight through the heart, and he collapsed and died. It was quick and Thor didn’t think Loki suffered much but...but Loki was gone. Dead. His brother was dead. Thor took a shaky breath and realized he’d been crying. 

He took a step toward his brother’s body. 

“Wait,” Odin said and Thor felt his temper flare. He wanted nothing more than to hold his brother. But he waited. 

Thor frowned wondering what they were waiting for when he noticed that the arrow was dissolving, shining with some unknown magic. 

Loki took a loud gasping breath. Thor ran to Loki not caring if he was supposed to or not, no one was going to stop him from getting to his brother. Luckily no one tried to stop him.

Thor pulled Loki up and into his arms embracing his brother tightly. Loki was breathing hard, stiff in his arms at first but then returned the embrace. 

“Thor?”

“I’m here brother, you’re alright.” 

“I’m...I’m not dead…”

“No, you’re alive,” Thor said.

“I’m sorry Thor,” Loki said, “I’m sorry.” 

Thor pulled away looking into his brother’s tear stained face, “You’re here Loki, that’s all that matters.” Thor pulled him into a tight hug again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who read, gave kudos, and commented on this. I had a blast writing all of these prompts.


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